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Glass." 

^THt EDWIN C. EJINWIDDIE 

COLLECTION OF feOQ(ks ON 

TEMPERANCE AND AjjutD SUBJECTS 

(PRESENTED BY MRS. DINWIDDIE) 






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AUTOBIOGRAPHY 



AND 



Personal Eecollections 



OF 



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WITH 



TWENTY -SIX YEARS' EXPERIENCE AS A 
PUBLIC SPEAKER. 



ILLUSTRATED BY GEORGE CRUIKSHANK AND OTHERS. 



PUBLISHED BY 

BILL, NICHOLS & CO., SPRINGFTKLD, MASS. 

BILL & HERON, CHICAGO, ILLINOIS. 
H. C. JOHNSON, rniLADELPHIA, VA. 

18G9. 



Gyf-H "^ 






Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1869, by 
JOHN B. GOUGH, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the District of 

Massachusetts. 






SAMUEL BOWLES AND COMPANY, 

PRINTERS, ELECTROTTPERS, AND BINDERS, 

SPRINGFIELD, MASS. 



J? 

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o 



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©0 titg Mri^tttrs 

IN 

AMERICA AND GREAT BRITAIN, 

» 

WHOSE SYMPATHY, CONFIDENCE, AND APPROVAL, HAVE ENCOURAGED, 
INSPIRED, AND CHEERED ME THROUGH THE EXPERI- 
ENCES OF SO MANY EVENTFUL YEARS, 

THIS AUTOBIOGRAPHY, AND PERSONAL RECOLLECTIONS, 
WITH GRATITUDE AND AFFECTION. 

JOHN B. GOUGH. 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



PAGE. 

Portrait of Mr. Gough, ^RO^'TISPIECE. 

Sandgate, Mr. Gough's Native Place, 25 

Mr. Gough's Birthplace, 49 

YiEW of Mr. Gough's Eesidexce, 251 

Ax Extraordinary Scene at Sadlers Wells Theater, . 353 

Festival of The London Temperance League, at Hart- 
well House, 361 

'•Hurra for Our Glorious Eights and Privileges," . . 475 

Procession of The London Temperance League, in Lin- 

coln's-Inn-Fields, 513 

Mr. Gough's Library, 529 



INTRODUCTION. 



Twenty-five years ago I prepared and published a little 
work entitled "Autobiogeaphy of John B. Gough," dedi- 
cated to Jesse W. Goodkich of Worcester, whose kindness 
cheered and supported me 

" When days were dark and friends were few ; " 

and to Moses Gkant of Boston, of whom it may with truth 

be said that 

" To relieve the wretched was his pride ; " — 

with the following introduction : 

" It may be asked by many individuals whose eyes will fall 
on these pages, why I thought it requisite to add one to the 
already numerous autobiographies extant? I answer, that 
justice to myself, in some measure, demands an explicit state- 
ment of the principal incidents in an hitherto eventful life : 
those incidents, or at least many of them, having, in frequent 
instances, been erroneously described. Besides this, many 
who have heard my verbal narrations, have intimated a de- 
sire to become more fully acquainted with a career, which, 
although it has extended but little beyond a quarter of a 
century, has been fruitful of adventure. To gratify others. 



VI INTRODUCTION. 

rather than myself, has been my object in reducing to a per- 
manent form my somewhat eventful history. I make no pre- 
tensions to literary merit, and trust this candid avowal will 
disarm criticism. Mine is, indeed, a 

' Short and simple annal of the poor;' 
and if the perusal of these pages should cheer some fainting 
w^anderer on the world's highway, and lead him far from the 
haunts of evil, by the still waters of temperance, my labor 
will have been well repaid. Truth constitutes the merit of 
my tale, if it possess any merit ; and most of us know that 
real life often furnishes strano^er stories than romance ever 
dreamed of; and that facts are frequently more startling than 
fiction." 

And now another quarter of a century has passed away, 
every year of which I have been engaged in public work in 
this country and Great Britain, and at the earnest request of 
many friends, I have been induced, with much apprehension 
and some reluctance, to give to them some personal recollec- 
tions of these eventful years. I am aware that I shall lay 
myself open to the charge of egotism; as, of necessity, I must 
speak of myself. There will be faults of style perhaps, hardly 
conforming to the strict laws of rhetoric, — neither making nor 
calling for any strong effort of the understanding ; but I shall 
be satisfied if I can keep the mind of my reader pleasantly 
occupied, without fatiguing it. I shall embody the autobiog- 
raphy with additions and emendations, and, having gained a 
larger experience of men and their peculiarities, shall omit 
some things which, in my maturer judgment, I do not con- 



INTEODUCTIOX. Vll 

sider it expedient to retain. In speaking of individuals I 
shall, as I may deem it advisable, omit names ; shall speak of 
things pleasant and painful ; and, though I may touch some 
men's prejudices, I trust I shall write these recollections in 
the spirit that moved the immortal Lincoln, " v^ith charity for 
all and malice towards none." 

It is sometimes an advantage to a young man on the 
threshold of life's experiences, to be shown the pitfalls into 
which another has stumbled, and the snares in which another 
may have been caught. And thus I send this book forth, 
with an earnest desire that it may not simply amuse and in- 
terest, but help and stimulate in the battle of life, encourage 
the despondent, and aid the struggling in their efforts to rise 
above adverse circumstances. 



John B. Gough. 



" Hillside," Worcester, IMass., 
September, 1869. 



} 



CONTENTS. 



INTRODUCTORY. 

PAGE. 

Eeasons for Publisliing — Misstatements Corrected — Requests of 
Friends — Plan of Writing — Object in View, ^ 

CHAPTER I. 

Birth — Birthplace — Situation — Description of — Place of Resort — 
Antiquity of-^Queen Elizabeth at the Castle — Boyish Dreams — 
My Father — Military Exercises — Descriptions of Battles — My 
Mother — Her Character — Former Position — My First Lessons — 
Attendance at School — Love of Ruins — Description of Them — 
The View — Quietness of Sandgate — The Mail Coach — Trip to 
Maidstone — Description of — Smugglers — Their Nicknames — 
Martello Towers — Mode of Smuggling — Incidents — Wrecks, . 19 

CHAPTER 11. 

William Wilberforce — Village Library — My Reading — Accident — 
Narrow Escape from Death — Our Circumstances — My Mother's 
Need — The Crown Piece — My Sister — Childish Amusements — 
Scrapes — Attempt at Punishment — Love of Mischief— Billy Ben- 
nett's Wig — Religious Persuasion of my Parents — Hytlie — 
Cinque Ports — Gleaning after the Reapers — Going to INIill — 
Fairs — Guy Fawkes' Day — Boys' Celebration— Other Holidays, 33 

CHAPTER III. 

Departure for America — Leaving the A^illage — Separation from my 
Mother — London — On Board Ship — Anchored off Sandgate — 



X CONTENTS. 

PAGE. 

Yisits from Friends — My Father, Mother, and Sister — The Voy- 
age — Sandy Hook — New York — Journey to the Farm — Extracts 
from Letters, 47 

CHAPTEK ly. 

Farm Life — Eeligious Impressions — Retiirn to New York — My 
First Situation and Lodgings — Friends — Extracts from Letters 
— Change of Employment — Arrival of my Mother and Sister — 
Housekeeping — Lack of Work — A Hard Winter — My Mother's 
Sickness — Spring — Better Times, 61 

CHAPTER Y. 

My Mother's Death — Burial — Separation of my Sister and Myself 
— Visit to the Farm — Eeturn to New York — My Companions 
and Amusements — Growing Dissipation — Removal to Bristol — 
To Providence — First Attempt on the Stage — Experience in 
Boston — Work in Newburyport — Fishing Voyage — Narrow Es- 
cape — Return Home — Storm at Sea — Jake's Terror — Arrival at 
Newburyport — Marriage — Housekeeping — Voyage to Bay of 
Fundy, 72 

CHAPTER VL 

Continued Residence in Newburyport — Increasing Dissipation- 
Falling off of Companions — Attempt at Work — Growing Reck- 
lessness — Trip to Lynn, Haverhill, and Amesbury — Concert — Re- 
turn Home — Fearful Scenes — Sickness — Delirium — Recovery — 
Leave Newburyport — Diorama — Return to Worcester — Employ- 
ment, ; 91 

CHAPTER VII. 

My Wife's HI Health— Her Death— Continued Dissipation— Metho- 
dist Meeting Interrupted— Sad Reflections — Fourth of July — 



CONTENTS. XI 

PAGE. 

Cold Water Army — Wretcliedness of my Condition — Appeal to 
Young Men, 110 

CHAPTEH YIII. 

My Miserable Condition — Memory and Effects of it Now — Joel 
Stratton — The Touch on my Shoulder — Our Walk — My Promise 
— Temperance Meeting in Town Hall, Worcester — First Speech 
in Public — -Signing the Pledge — The Struggle — Jesse Goodrich 
— Terrible Sickness — Recovery, 124 

CHAPTER IX. , 

My Changed Condition — Weekly Speeches — My Old Overcoat- 
First Speech in a Pulpit — My New Suit — First Remuneration — 
Invitations — Extracts from Papers — New Year's Celebration at 
Barre — Permission to Leave Work for Two Weeks — My Apron 
and the Bibles, 139 

CHAPTER X. 

Violation of the Pledge — Reformed Drunkard's Prayer — Constant 
Work — 111 Health — Boston — Old Companions— Bitter Reflec- 
tions—Return to Worcester — Re-signing the Pledge — Extracts 
from Journals — Kindness of Friends — Drunkenness a Disease- 
Moderate Drinking — Constitution and Temperament — Instance 
of a Printer — A Lawyer — Another — Reasons for Giving Them — 
Picture of Blindfold Child, Ho 



^ 



CHAPTER XL 

Lectures Continued — Written Record— Number of Speeches — Re- 
muneration—Miles Traveled— Signatures Obtained— Incidents 
— Visit to a Drunkard — Laughable Experience — Deacon INIoses 
Grant at Ilopkinton — Engagements for Boston — Adventure with 
an Officer of Justice — First Speech in Boston — Other Speeches 



Xll CONTEXTS. 

PAGE. 

— My Marriage — Meeting with Deacon Grant — Trip to New 
York, Philadelphia, Baltimore and Washington — Return to Phil- 
adelphia — Return to Boston, 159 

CHAPTER XII. 

Temperance Celebration in Boston — Description of — Trip to West- 
ern New York — Visit to the Penitentiary on Blackwell's Island — 
Benefit at Tabernacle — Meeting in Faneuil Hall — Work at Phil- 
adelphia and other Places — Views on Moral Suasion — Review of 
my Experience, 175 

CHAPTER XIII. 

Enmity to the Cause of Temperance — Accusations — Traps — Threat- 
ening Letters — A Public Slander — Extract from Journal — Apol- 
ogy — Old Debts — Epithets — Charge of Drinking — Statement — 
Church Report — My Own Convictions — Kindness of Friends, 195 

CHAPTER XIV. 

Severe Illness — " Goughiana " — Speeches in Boston, Worcester, 
Newburyport, Dedham, New York, and Virginia — Woman Sold 
— Boston — Return to Virginia — Speech on Liquor Traffic — Night 
Serenade — A Crowd — Abolitionist — Work Continued — Brain 
Fever — Recovery — News of my Father — Address to Colored 
People — Their Singing — Prayers — Return Home — Extract from 
my Father's Letter, 211 

CHAPTER XV. 

Work Among the Children — Incidents — Disturbance in " Faneuil 
Hall" — Extracts from Journals — Dread of Audiences — Tremont 
Temple — Meeting in New York — Refusal to let me Pass — Flush- 
ing, L. I.—" Singed Cat "—Polite Proprietor, ....... 223 



, 



CONTENTS. Xlll 

CHAPTER XVI. 

PAGE. 

Line of Travel for the Year — Meetiog at Kingston — Fall of the 
Platform — Notice of the Accident — Practical Jokes — My Father's 
Arrival in this Country — Comments of the Press — Opposition of 
Temperance Papers — Charge of Becoming Rich — Statement of* 
Receipts — Present Conditi'on — Purchase of Land — Building a 
House, 240 

CHAPTER XYII. 

Continued work— Examples of the Power of Drink — Letter from 
an Englishman — His History — Visit to Montreal — Address to 
the Soldiers — Work in Detroit — Flowers from the Children — 
Interview with a Young Lady — Case of Reform, 253 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

Journey to Pittsburg — Work in that City — Panic in Dr. Heron's 
Church — Cincinnati — Dr. Fisher's Church — Wesley Chapel — 
Wesley College — Albums — Return Home— Visit to Halifax — Ad- 
dress to the Highlanders — Signs — Speech in Coburg — Tearing 
my Coat — Flag Presentation — Criticisms of Gestures — "The 
Platform does it" — Power of a Theme — Incident in Jersey City, 267 

CHAPTER XIX. 

Invitation to Great Britain — ]\Ir. Kellogg's Visit — Acceptance of 
my Propositions — Farewell Meetings — Dr. Beecher's Blessing — 
Departure — Arrival at Liverpool — Welcome to England — Work 
Prepared — Arrival in London — Pleasant Impressions — Roccp- 
tion — The Street Band — Sight-Seeing — Punch and Judy — Exeter 
Hall— First Speech, 271) 



XIV CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XX. 

PAGE. 

Account of Reception and Speecli from a Published Work — Invita- 
tion — Preparations — Results — Extract from the Banner — " The 
Bane and the Antigoat " — " Variety the Spice of Life," • . „ 287 



CHAPTER XXI. 

Route to Scotland — Edinburgh — Fete at Surrey Gardens — Yisit to 
Sandgate — Old Friends — Old Associations — My Home— The Old 
Nail — Speech at Folkestone — Mrs. Beattie — Reverence Paid to 
Jiank — My leather's Clergyman — Return to London — London 
Fog — Christmas at George Campbell's, ... 302 

CHAPTER XXn. 

Places of Literest — Brymbo Hall — John Bright — The Soldier and 
his Wife — Second Visit to Sandgate — Newstead Abbey — Vanda,l- 
ism — Farewell Addresses — Departure for America — Review of 
Work — Arguments for Drinking — Scriptural Arguments — Mur- 
ray's Lectures, . 314 

CHAPTER XXm. 

British Organizations — The Term " Orator " — Votes of Thanks — 
Introductions — The Scotch Lassies — The Handkerchief — Tlie 
Broken Carriage Window — The Scotch Breakfast — A Run for 
the Train — Hospitalities — English Comfort, 331 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

Lecture before the Young Men's Christian Association — Comments 
of the Press — Address to the Edinburgh Students — Soiree in 
Tanfield Hall — Address to Ladies — Public Dinner and Ban- 
quet — The Lever Clock — Silver Pitcher — Rice Pudding, . . . 340 



CONTENTS. XV 

CHAPTEE XXV. 

Speech at Leslie— Prof. Miller— Throat Remedies— Scene at Sad- 
lers Wells Theater — Address to Oxford Students — Ludicrous 
Scene " Fair Play " — Fete at Hartwell House — Fireworks — In- 
fluence of Drink — Extracts from Letters — Other Cases — Poor 
Ned, 350 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

Address to Outcasts — "Fire" — "One of Us" — Arrival Home — 
First Speech in Philadelphia — First Visit to Chicago — Impres- 
sions — The West — Christian Influence — Return, Home — A Wed- 
ding — Summer's Rest — Work in the Church and Sunday-School 
— Rev. Geo. Gould — Death of William Lincoln — Second Visit to 
Chicago — Cincinnati — Work in Boston, New York, and Pennsyl- 
vania — Return Home — Preparations for Second Trip to England 
— Farewell Picnic — Address in Worcester — Departure, . . . 372 

• 

CHAPTER XXVIL 

Reasons for Inserting the Trial — The "Dead Letter" — State of 
Feeling regarding it — Comments of the Press — Arrival in Eng- 
land — Queen Street Hall — Continued Attacks, 391 

CHAPTER XXVIIL 

Trial in the Libel Case — Court of Exchequer — " Gough vs. Lees," 405 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

Continued Controversy — Macaulay's Letter — Extract from the 
" London Morning Star " — " Manchester Exauiinor and Times," l-S 



XVI CONTEXTS. 

CHAPTER XXX. 

PAGE. 

Fete at Sudbrook Park — Soiree at George Cruikshank's — Edin- 
burgh — Orkney Islands — Absence of Trees — Trip to Sanday 

Tisit to Paris — Pumpkin Pie — Drunkenness in Wine-Growino- 
Countries — Geneva — ^Mayence — Vevay — Mont Blanc — Glaciers 
—The "Dreadful Doll "—Cologne— Relics— Visit to Ireland- 
Last Meeting in London — Bible Presentation — Our Departure, 440 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

Society in Great Britain — Toadyism — The Nobility — The State 
Dinner — Aristocracy of Blood — Aristocracy of Wealth — Temp- 
tations Incident to these Classes — Social Evil in Great Britain 
— Lines of Division — " Gentility " — " Only a Mechanic " — Eng- 
lish Factories — The Harvest Home — " Beer in Moderation " — 
English Sports — Benches for the " Colic " — Condition of the La- 
boring Classes, 45'6 

CHAPTER XXXn. 

The " Navvies " — Irish Begging — Ballad Singers — The " Poet 
Horse " — Irish Famine — Americans in Europe — Want of Taste 
— Snuff-Taking — Feeing Servants — Railways in Great Britain — 
The Night Trains— Signs, 482 

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

Reform in England — Enghsh Mind — American Mind — Women's 
Work in England — " Beautiful Work" — Fetes for the People — 
Parlor Meetings — Carshalton Park— Poor Women from Lon- 
don — Flowers — One Bright Day, 504 



CONTENTS. xvii 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

PAGE. 

Departure for, America — Bad News — The Minister's Welcome — 
Reception at Mechanics' Hall — Death of Joel Stratton — His Life 
and Character — First Written Lecture — Charge of Deserting the 
Temperance Cause — Beggars — Borrowers — Bores — Anecdotes of 



'i 



Travel — Railroad Accidents, 519 H 

CHAPTER XXXY. 

Silver Wedding — Presentation of Gifts — Speech — Letter to Com- I 

mittee — Record of Work — Audiences of Students — The Book — 
The War — Family — Nannie's Death — Letter from my Wife — • 

Record of Friends — Courtesy of Fellow-Laborers — Conclusion, 538 



AUTOBIO GR APHY. 



CHAPTER I. 

Birtli — Birthplace — Situation — Description of — Place of Resort — An- 
tiquity of — Queen Elizabeth at the Castle — Boyish Dreams — My 
Father — Military Exercises — Descriptions of Battles — My Mother 
— Her Character — Former Position — My First Lessons — Attendance 
at School — Love of Ruins — Description of Them — The View — Quiet- 
ness of Sandgate — The Mail-Coach — Trip to Maidstone — Descrip- 
tion of — Smugglers — Their Nicknames — Martello Towers — Mode of 
Smuggling — Incidents — Wrecks. 

I WAS born on the 22d of August, 1817, at Sand- 
gate, in the County of Kent, England. I have heard 
my mother say that, in that year, nearly all the win- 
dows of our little house were broken by the concus- 
sion caused by the firing of cannon from the Castle, 
in honor of the grand visit of the allied monarchs 
and their famous followers to England; and that a 
government agent w^ent round afterwards to pay the 
bill. It is a romantic little watering-place, frequented 
by many of the aristocracy and gentry, and was a 
favorite resort of William Wilberforcc. In an old 
guide-book published the year before I was born — 
181G — Sandgate is described as: "A neat and pic- 
turesque village, situated on the direct road from 
Ilytlie to Folkestone. It consists principally of one 
street, of a handsome breadth, at the foot of a range 
of lofty eminences, and on the very brink oii the 



20 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHiN" B. GOUGH. 

sea, — of which it commands a boundless and dehVht- 
ful view. The houses, though small, are commodious 
and remarkably clean, light, and cheerful." Now, a 
large number of houses have been erected for the 
reception and accommodation of visitors, who are 
there for the purpose of sea-bathing. It is, indeed, 
a quiet little spot, and that which has been said of 
another place of resort may, with propriety, be ap- 
plied to Sandgate, — it has "cheerfulness without noise, 
tranquillity without dullness, and facility of commu- 
nication without disturbance." 

The Earl of Darnley has an elegant villa, sur- 
rounded by a plantation, and over-looking the houses 
and the sea. The earliest account of Sandgate is to 
be met with in the mention of a castle which was 
standing there in the reign of Eichard the Second, 
who directed his writ to the keeper of the castle of 
Sandgate, to admit Henry of Lancaster, Duke of 
Hereford, with his family, horses, and attendants, to 
tarry there six weeks for refreshment. On the site 
of this building, which had been demolished, another 
castle was built in 1539, by Henry the Eighth. 
When Elizabeth made her famous progress to the 
coast in 1588, her majesty honored Sandgate Castle 
with her presence, and was entertained and lodged 
here by the Governor. 

This castle was a favorite resort of mine, and hav- 
ing, when quite a boy, gained favor with the keeper, 
I was permitted free access ; and, as I acquired 
some knowledge of Bluff King Hal, I would wander 
through the court-yards, the turrets, and the battle- 
ments, and build castles in the air, and — in fancy — 
people the place with its old inhabitants, and see 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 21 

plumed cavaliers and ruffled dames pacing the corri- 
dors, or surrounding the groaning board. Katharine 
of Arragon, Anna Boleyn, Katharine Seymour, and 
others, flitted by me, and — living in the past — sur- 
rounded by these associations, almost unconsciously 
my imagination was cultured, and my mind imbued 
with a love of history and poetry; and, having a 
taste for the beauties of nature, I was often to be 
found roaming on the beach, gazing at the great sea, 
and listening to its everlasting moan; — little dream- 
ing that three thousand miles beyond, was a land in 
which my lot would be cast! But I anticipate. 

My father had enlisted as a soldier in 1798, and 
served in the Fortieth and the famous Fifty-Second 
Regiments of Light Infantry, till 1823, when he was 
discharged with a pension of twenty pounds a year. 
He was in the Peninsular War, and obtained a medal 
with six clasps, for Corunna, Talavera, Salamanca, 
Badajos, Pombal, and Busaco. He was once slightly 
wounded in the breast. I remember, as well as if it 
had been but yesterday, how he would go through 
military exercises with me, my mimic weapon being 
a broom, and my martial equipments some of his 
faded trappings. I was not, however, destined to see 
how fields were won. With what intense interest 
have I often listened to his descriptions of battle- 
fields! How I have shuddered at contemplating the 
dreadful scenes which he so graphically portrayed! 
He was present at the memorable battle of Coruuua, 
and witnessed its hero. Sir John Moore, carried from 
that fatal field. "Here," he would sa}', "was such a 
regiment; there, such a battalion; in this situation 
was the enenn-; and yonder was the position of the 



22 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

General and his staff." And then he would go on to 
describe the death of the hero, his looks, and his 
burial near the ramparts, until my young heart would 
leap with excitement. Apart from such attractions 
as these, my father possessed few for a child. His 
military habits had become a second nature with 
him. Stern discipline had been taught him in a 
severe school, and, it being impossible for him to cast 
off old associations, he was not calculated to win the 
deep affections of a child, — although in every respect 
he deserved and possessed my love. 

My mother's character wPtS cast in a gentler mould. 
Her heart was a fountain whence the pure waters 
of affection never ceased to flow. Her very being 
seemed twined with mine, and ardently did I return 
her love. For the long space of twenty years she 
had occupied the humble position of school-mistress 
in the village, and frequently planted the first princi- 
ples of knowledge in the minds of children whose 
parents had, years before, been benefited by her 
early instructions. And well qualified, by nature 
and acquirements, was she for the interesting office 
she filled, — if a kindly heart and a well-stored mind 
be the requisites. 

Of course I received my first lessons at home, but 
as I advanced in years, it became advisable that I 
should be sent to a school; and to one I was accord- 
ingly sent. There was a free school in the village, 
but my father, though he could ill -afford it, paid a 
weekly sum for my instruction at the seminary of 
Mr. Davis of Folkestone. I progressed rapidly in 
my limited education, and became a teacher in the 
school. Two classes, as was the custom, were placed 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGn. 23 

under my care; the children of one of them I initi- 
ated into the art and mystery of spelling words of 
two syllables, and taught the Rule of Three to a class 
more advanced. I have now the last "cyphering 
book" I used in that school. On the fly-leaf is a 
specimen of my fancy writing, — John Gough, Nov. 
ISth, 1827. I was then ten years of age. Soon 
after, I left the school, and have never since entered 
a day-school, or Sunday-school, to learn a lesson. 

As I look back to that far past, and call to mind 
the scenes of my early childhood, how they pass in 
review before me! I have always had an intense 
love of the old, and would travel farther to see a ruin, 
than the finest modern structure. And no wonder; 
for the vicinity of my home is full of the monuments 
of ancient time : Lympne Castle, a fortification made 
by the Romans, to protect the road from their port 
of Lympne (now Lymne) to Canterbury; — Shepway 
Cross, remarkable for its antiquity; — the Chapel of 
Our Lady, at Courtat street, where, in 1523, EHzabeth 
Barton, by her prophesies and divinations, obtained 
the name of "The Holy Maid of Kent," and — in that 
age of bigotry and superstition — drew devotees and 
pilgrims to this chapel; history tells us how she was 
induced to prophesy in afiairs of state, and, ofiending 
Henrv the Eio;hth, was brouo^ht before the Star-Cham- 
ber, and "suflered at Tyburn;" — then, the ruins of 
Studfall Castle, described as one of the watch-towers 
built by Theodosius; — Saltwood Castle, the commence- 
ment of which is ascribed to the King of Kent in 
488; — Westenhanger House, supposed to have been 
a royal residence as early as the reign of llonrv the 
Second; a portion of the old building had llie naino 



24 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

of "Fair Rosamond's Tower." All these, and many 
more, in a circuit of a few miles from my native village, 
— indeed, they could all be seen in one day. How I 
have clung closer to my mother's hand, and held my 
breath, and thrilled with that half-pleasurable terror 
of a child in passing a haunted house, as Rokeby 
. Castle loomed in the moonlight when we crossed the 
Park on our way from Braybourne, where mother 
was born! — Dover Castle, eight, miles away; Shaks- 
peare's Cliff, nearer; Canterbury, with its gorgeous 
cathedral, four hours' walk from us; Folkestone, a 
mile and a half distant, wdth its historical associations 
— the castle, now gone, built by the Lord of Folke- 
stone in 1052, and the nunnery, or abbey, of which 
Leland writes; the steep, narrow, irregular High 
Street, up and down which, with my green bag of 
books (few enough there were of them!) at my back, 
I traveled day by day for three years on my way to 
and from school. How well T remember: — up through 
the High Street, past the house where Harvey, who 
discovered the circulation of the blood, was born, on 
to the level plain, by the edge of the cliff; and as we 
near home, what an enchanting scene! the barracks 
up yonder, at Shorncliffe; the Martello Towers; the 
sea; the white cliffs toward Dover; the distant coast 
of France; the castle and village; with all the di- 
versified scenery surrounding us, make that half hour's 
walk as pleasant in its variety and beauty as any in 
the kingdom. 

My reader will not, probably, thank me for so much 
description ; but it is of my home — my birthplace — 
and I feel that the impressions made on my mind by 
these surroundings have been permanent. 




^ 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 27 

Sandgate was, in my boyhood, a much quieter 
place than now. There was nothing to break the 
dull monotony. Occasionally a fracas between the 
men-of-war's men and the smugglers would create an 
excitement, and stir to the depths the whole com- 
munity. The passing of the mail from Dover to 
London twice each day, through the village, was 
never without its interest, though the people knew 
coach and coachmen, and the names of the horses. 
There was always a group at the inn door to ex- 
change a word with the coachman or guard, or hear a 
bit of the latest news from London — that far-off, mys- 
terious city! With what reverence, almost amount- 
ing to awe, would the staid villagers gaze on one who 
had been to "Lunnon!" The father of one of my 
school-fellows — Charley Austin — was a coachman on 
this line, driving down from Dover to Maidstone, half 
way to London, and returning. One day — a real red- 
letter day to me — my father gave his permission for 
me to accompany Charley to Maidstone. Behold us, 
then, we two boys, with the prospect of a seventy 
miles ride on the top of a crack mail-coach in 1825! 

That English mail-coach was a " thing of beauty." 
The recollections of that ride are fresh to-day. How 
w^e did spin along, ten miles an hour, horses changed 
every seven miles! It was wonderfully stirring, and 
we could almost say of it, as Johnson said to Boswell, 
as they rapidly rode in a post-chaise, — (only we knew 
nothing of either of those gentlemen then): ''Ah! 
Bozzy — life hasn't many better things than this." 
Conclunan and guard in scarlet liverv; four sliining, 
spirited horses, the ostlers at their heads, rrady to 
throw off the blankets at the words, ^- all viiiht ;" 



28 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGII. 

the crack of the whip ; the smart trot, and ring of the 
horses' feet on the hard road; hedges, mansions, barns, 
cottages — all passing rapidly; the rattling noise of the 
"wheels on the rough stones of some provincial town; 
the excitement; dogs barking; the bugle of the guard 
playing a merry tune; people throwing up the win- 
dows, and running to the doors, to look at the gaudily 
painted mail-coach ; the short stop at the public house ; 
four horses all ready, an ostler to each horse; the 
coachman on his seat, and while the horses are being 
put to, he is fastening a new piece of cord to his 
whip ; the guard mounting ; the reins thrown up ; 
the "all right!" the tearing away — on and on — it 
was almost the perfection of traveling ! I have never 
so thoroughly enjoyed a ride as on that sunny sum- 
mer day, from Sandgate to Maidstone, and back. 

I spoke, just now, of the smugglers. There was a 
regularly organized gang of them in the village; and 
I must confess that the sympathies of nearly the 
whole community were generally Avith them, though 
their influence was fearfully demoralizing. Lying 
close to the sea — only twenty-two miles from the 
French coast — with hig-h hills surroundino; the villasre 
on every side but one — ^that towards Hj'the — it was 
a spot peculiarly fitted for their successful exploits 
against the revenue. They were a bold, hardy set of 
men. A public house, called the Fleur-de-lis^ was their 
favorite haunt. Their boats, painted white, lay along 
the beach. Every one knew they were smugglers — 
even the men-of-war's men knew them — but the diffi- 
culty was to catch them.*' During the panic about 

* Every man in the village, who was engaged in defrauding the revenue, 
had a nickname, and was really known by no other. Some of these nick- 



AUTOBIOGRAPUY OF JOUN B. GOUGn. 29 

the French invasion, the government had erected 
Martello Towers all along the coast. These towers 
are each capable of accommodating from twenty-five 
to thirty men, with a piece of heavy ordnance on the 
roof They are erected either on eminences, or on 
the shore, near the w^ater's edge, at intervals of a 
quarter to half a mile. The walls are of great thick- 
ness, their shape circular, height between thirty and 
forty feet. Their foundations are laid at the bottom 
of a deep pit, which forms a dry ditch, the entrance 
guarded by a draw-bridge, w^hich, w^hen raised, forms 
a double door — the inner one strongly cased in cop- 
per. These Martello Towers were used at this time 
for the accommodation of men-of-war's men, with 
their officers, whose duty it was to pace the beach, 
day and night, armed with cutlass and pistols, to pre- 
vent smuggling. The plan of the smugglers w^as: to 
go out in a smack, or lugger, for fish — ostensibly — 
run over to France, get their goods on board in water- 
tight cases, — silks, laces, tea, and other articles, and 
brandy in small casks, called ankers, — put out in the 
channel, take their bearings, and sink the goods; then 
catch a few fish, and return. The men-of-w^ar's men 
immediately search their boats, while the smugglers, 
with perfect indifference, look on and chafi:' them; 
though they were generally very civil. 

The most difficult part of their work is to run the 

names in Sandgate were Bonum, Crappie, Ilornoy, Boxer, and Stickcrotfl 
The name descondcil from father to son. A boy coming into our little Sun- 
day-school, was asked his name. 

" Stickeroflf'/' was the reply. 

" WHiat's your father's name ? " . 

" Stickerotf; — lie's old Stiokcroff, and I'm yoimg Stickeroflf." 

These names were nsed to lessen the cliance of detection, ns their real 
names, under which they would bo prosecuted, were never hoard. 



30 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHX B. GOUGH. 

goods. This is done on a dark night. Eemember, 
the men-of-war's men ai^ constantly on the watch, 
patrolling the beach. The smugglers^ dressed in white 
frocks, trowsers, and hats, with moccasins on their 
feet, glide to their boats — slip the mufflers into the 
row-locks, lift their boat and carry it into the water, 
leap into it, and away! In the meantime, their 
women, and even their children, are aiding them on 
shore. 

See that brig:ht lio^ht that flashes but a moment 
from the hill ! Every one knows that the smugglers 
are to have a run to-night. No one, at that time, was 
permitted to carry a light in the streets after a cer- 
tain hour; but that is a signal. In an opposite direc- 
tion, you see another; and if you keep a sharj) look 
out, you will observe in the channel just one flash. 
All right! They have their bearings. 

I remember one evening after dark, a boy asked 
me to go up the hill with him. When we had arrived 
at a certain point, he took some oakum steeped in 
turpentine, and laid it on the ground; then took a 
small dark lantern (there were no friction matches 
then) and set fire to it. As the tow blazed up, he 
said "run, Johnny, run," — and we both did run, blun- 
derinp^ and stumblinsc in the darkness till we came to 
the village. I went home, and told my father, and he 
boxed my ears. 

The most perilous part of the smuggler's work is 
to land the goods; and it is surprising how successful 
they were — so many were helping them on shore. 
Horses were waiting to carry their goods up the 
country, and a gang of men ready to wade into the 
w^ter, and sling a couple of ankers, or cases, on their 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH, 



31 



shoulders, and run up the beach. How they suc- 
ceeded in evading the men-of-war's men, I cannot tell 
you; but they did it enough to make the business 
very profitable. Occasionally they had trouble, and 
father would say, when we have heard firing, and 
sometimes the rushing of feet past our door, — ^^Ah! 
the smugglers are at it again." A party of the run- 
ners being closely pursued, one night, opened our door 
and threw in a large package, and then ran on. My 
father was in the room, and instantly threw it out into 
, the darkness; for the slightest suspicion of his com- 
plicity with smugglers would risk his pension. Though 
he might wish them well as neighbors, he was bound 
to withhold all sympathy from them as smugglers. 

One circumstance I well remember. A young man 
had bought a couple of pounds of tea for his mother, 
and had put it into his long fishing boots; on land- 
ing, the preventive officer insisted on searching him 
personally, for, said he, "I smell tea." He was re- 
sisted, and the quarrel grew to such a height, that 
the officer drew his pistol and shot the young man 
dead. In one minute the unfortunate officer was 
cut to pieces; a dozen knives were used upon him; 
and, I believe, not one of the men was punished, 
though the deed was done in broad daylight. The 
men engaged in the affi^ay were not seen for some 
time after in the village, and woe be to any one 
who would have betrayed them; his life would not 
have been worth a button. But all this has passed 
away years ago. 

Living so near the sea, we saw some fearful wrecks. 
Once I beheld the wreck of an East-lndiaman, in 
which some seven hundred passengers, returning 



82 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

troops and seamen, iDerished. For weeks after, I saw 
in my dreams the hair of the women floatmg on the 
water, as I had seen it in reality, when the boats 
went out to bring in the bodies. Some scores of 
bodies were brought to land or washed ashore, and 
buried in Cheriton church-yard. 

i 



CHAPTER II. 

William Wilberforce — Village Library — My Eeading — Accident — Nar- 
row Escape from Death — Our Circumstances — My Mother's Need — 
The Crown Piece — My Sister — Childish Amusements — Scrapes — 
Attempt at Punishment — Love of Mischief — Billy Bennett's Wig — 
Religious Persuasion of my Parents — Hythe — Cinque Ports — Glean- 
ing after the Reapers — Going to Mill — Fairs — Guy Fawkes' Day — 
Boys' Celebration — Other Holidays. 

Among other circumstances connected witli this 
period of my life^ I well remember one which much 
impressed me. The venerable and devoted William 
Wilberforce resided, during a few of the summer 
months, at Sandgate, for the benefit of his health. I 
had heard much of the great philanthropist, and was 
not a little delighted when my father took me to his 
lodgings, where a prayer-meeting was held. How it 
was, I know not, but I attracted Mr. Wilberforce's 
attention. He patted me on the head, said many 
kind things, and expressed wishes for my welfare. 
He also presented me with a book, and wrote with 
his own hand my name on the fly-leaf Having 
acquired some reputation as a good reader, he re- 
quested me to read to him. I did so, and he ex- 
pressed himself much pleased. The book he gave 
me I have long since lost; but never shall I forget 
the kindly words of the venerable giver. 

I have remarked that I was considered to be a 
Q:ood reader. Often whilst I was sittinir readhig to 



II 



II 



34 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

my mother, as she sat working by our cottage door, 
which faced the sea, did strangers stay to listen, at- 
tracted by my proficiency in this art. There was a 
library in the village, kept by Mr. Purday, and to 
this place many visitors to our watering-place re- 
sorted, to hear the news. Very frequently I was 
sent for, to read to ladies and gentlemen, and the 
school-mistress' son become a general purveyor of 
the gossip of the day; in return for which I was re- 
warded pretty liberally. On one occasion a gentle- 
man, to whom I had read some portions of a news- 
paper, was so much pleased, that he took me to the 
library fronting the reading-room, in the same build- 
ing, and asked me what book I would like to take. 
Showing me a volume which contained hieroglyphic 
pictures and a common prayer-book, he offered me 
my choice. Now, with all the love of a lad for pic- 
tures, I ardently desired the hieroglyphical designs; 
but, thinking I should be considered more favorably if 
I preferred the prayer-book, I chose the latter, — much 
against my will. My choice was applauded; and a 
bright half-crown into the bargain consoled me for 
the self-mortification which my vanity had imposed. 
About this time I experienced a very narrow es- 
cape from death. I went to school at Folkestone, 
and was returning from that place one day, accompa- 
nied by some other boys, playing at wagon and horses 
— four boys personating quadrupeds, which I was 
driving, at rather a rapid rate. It happened that a 
man who was digging a trench by the road-side did 
not perceive the four lads I was driving, they having 
stooped as they passed him. He threw up a spadeful 
of clay, intending to toss it to some distance, and the 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGII. 35 

sharp edge of the implement was driven with great 
force against my head. I instantly sunk down insen- 
sible, and deluged with blood. I was carried home 
by the boys — who in reality became animals of bur- 
den — still unconscious, to my terrified parents; and 
for days my life was despaired of Even when re- 
covery seemed probable, few hopes of my returning 
reason were entertained. Although, by the provi- 
dence of God, I recovered, yet to this day I feel the 
effects of that blow. When excited in speaking, I 
am frequently compelled to press my hands on my 
head, to ease the pricking and darting sensation I 
experience ; and never, I suppose, shall I be entirely 
free from inconvenience from this cause. My father 
had a tender heart, notwithstanding his habitual 
sternness, and he scarcely ever reverted to this cir- 
cumstance in after days without tears. 

During my father's absence, seeking employment, 
he obtained a situation as gentleman's servant. My 
mother's circumstances were very much straitened, 
although, in addition to school-keeping, she worked 
industriously at making a kind of lace, then very 
fashionable, and in the manufacture of which she ex- 
celled. On one occasion, when our necessities abso- 
lutely required extra exertion, she took her basket of 
work and traveled eight and a half weary miles to the 
town of Dover. Arrived there, foot-sore and heart- 
weary, she threaded the streets and lanes with her 
lace, seeking for customers, and not finding one; and 
after reluctantly abandoning the pursuit, she once 
more turned her face towards home — a home desolate 
indeed! Painful, bitterly painful, were my mother's 
reflections as she drew near her door; and when she 
8 



I 



36 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOH^^ B. GOUGH. 

rested her fatigued frame, she had nothing in the 
house with which to recruit her strength. During 
her absence, a gentleman had sent for me to the 
library, and was so pleased with my reading, that he 
made me a present of ^ve shillings ; and Mr. Purday, 
in addition, gave me sixpence. 0, how rich I was! 
Never had I possessed so vast an amount before; and 
all imaginable modes of spending it flitted before my 
fancy. I went to play with some other boys until 
my mother's return from Dover; and soon afterwards, 
on entering our house, I found her sitting in her chair, 
bathed in tears. I asked her what was the matter? — 
when she drew me close to her, and, looking in my 
face with a mournful expression which I shall never 
forget, told me that all her weary journey had been 
fruitless — she had sold nothing. Oh! with what joy 
I drew the crown piece and the sixpence from my 
pocket, and placed them in her hand; and with what 
delightful feelings we knelt down, whilst she poured 
out her heart in thankfulness to God, for the relief so 
seasonably provided. My mother gave me a half- 
penny for myself, and I felt far happier then, than I 
did when I received the shining silver crown piece; 
it was all my own, to do as I liked with — to keep or 
spend! What an inestimable privilege! I can, in all 
sincerity say, that never have I received money, 
.since then, which has afforded me more solid satisfac- 
tion ; and some of my most pleasant reminiscences are 
circumstances connected with that boyish incident. 

I ought, before this, to have mentioned that I had 
a sister, two years younger than myself, of whom I 
thought a great deal. She was my chief playmate. 
I used to frequently personate a clergyman, being then 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 37 

very fond of imitation; and, having rigged up a chair 
into some resemblance of a pulpit, I would secure her 
services in the dressing up of rag dolls, which consti- 
tuted my congregation, for whose especial benefit I 
would pour forth my mimic oratory — very much to 
my own amusement, if not to the edification of my 
dumb friends, who sat stiff and starched, perfect pat- 
terns of propriety. Then, as a diversion, I manufac- 
tured, from an old bottomless chair, a very respecta- 
ble Punch and Judy box; and many a laugh have I 
raised among my young companions by my perform- 
ances in that line. My puppets were of home manu- 
facture, but they passed muster well enough, espe- 
cially with the boys and girls who had never been 
fortunate enough to have seen the genuine personifi- 
cation of these remarkable characters. 

I did not entirely avoid getting into what boys 
call ^'scrapes" — nor did I escape punishments. I was, 
like all others, occasionally disobedient, or as my poor 
dear mother would sometimes say, " aggravating ; " but 
the dear soul, I believe, never punished me without 
laughing before she got through. My terror at cor- 
poral punishment, or physical pain, was so intense as 
to be sometimes positively ludicrous. I remember 
there was one day, a collier, that is, a large vessel 
laden with coals, that ran in on the high tide to un- 
load; so that when the tide went down, she lay dry 
on the beach, and the boys delighted in the perform- 
ance of swinging by her ropes, and occasionally climb- 
ing on board. I was busily engaged at this sort of 
play, when my mother called me to carry a pail of ref- 
use to our pig, that was kept in a pen some quarter 
of a mile from our house. I crawled up the beach 






I 



38 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

I 

very reluctantly, and taking the pail, made out that 
it was too heavy, and pretended that I could not 
carry it — in short, was very " aggravating ; " when my 
poor mother took the pail from me and carried it 
herself — bidding me go into the house, and wait till 
she returned. As she came in, 1 knew by her face, 
that I should " catch it," and when she came, with a 
stick in her hand, looking as sternly as the dear soul 
was capable of, I ran, and she after me, till I got into 
a closet, and would not come out. She could not 
strike to hurt me, for the door was low and narrow, 
affording no room for the swing of the stick. The 
poking at me without a blow became amusing, and I 
laughed. The poor dear soul, her eyes dancing and 
her mouth twitching with ill-concealed merriment, 
said, "Well, John, I'll give you a stirring up," — and 
so with a circular motion, I got the stick alternately 
on the head and legs, till I promised to come out and 
take my punishment in a more legitimate manner. 
Ah! dear mother, how often she used to laugh at 
stirring me up with a stick in the closet ! 

I always possessed the dangerous faculty of seeing 
the ludicrous side of everything, and was famous for 
"making fun." This was the source of some trouble, 
both in boyhood and in after years, and I have al- 
ways sympathized with every boy who was "prone to 
mischief," — I mean without malice. Any and every 
opportunity for a joke was a strong temptation, al- 
most irresistible. How, when I have seen the baker, 
with a tray of loaves on his head, my toes would 
fairly curl in my shoes, with the longing just to put 
out my foot, and give him only one little trip. I 
think one of the severest punishments my father ever 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 39 

gave me — and I richly deserved it — was for a trick 
of this kind, which boys call "fun." A dapper little 
man, a tailor by profession, attended the Methodist 
Chapel, where my father used to worship; and his 
seat was directly in front of ours. He was a bit of a 
dandy, a little conceited, and rather proud of his per- 
sonal appearance, but was a sad stammerer. He had 
what was called a "scratch wig" — a small affair, that 
just covered the top of his head. One nnlucky Sun- 
day for me, as I was sitting in the chapel, with his 
head and wig right before me, I began playing with 
a pin, and having bent it to the form of a hook, found 
in my pocket a piece of string; tied it around the 
head of the pin, and began to fish, with no thought 
of any particular mischief, and doing what boys often 
do in church, when they are not interested in, or do 
not understand the service. So with one eye on my 
father, who sat by me intently listening to the dis- 
course, and one eye alternately on the minister and 
my fishing line, I continued to drop my hook, and 
haul it up again very quietly — when, becoming tired 
of fishing, I gathered up the line, and resting the pin 
on my thumb, gave it a snap; np it went; I snapped 
it again, and again very carefully, till one unfortunate 
snap sent the pin on Billy Bennett's head ; it slid off. 
Then the feat was, to see how often I could snap it on 
his head without detection. After several successful 
performances of this feat, I snapped it a little too 
hard, and it rested on the "scratch wig" too flir for- 
ward to fall off. So I must needs pull the string, and 
as my ill fortune would have it, the pin would not 
come; I drew it harder and harder, very cautiously, 
till it was tight. The pin had caught somewhere. 



40 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

Now I knew, if detected, I should be severely pun- 
ished. The temptation was so strong to pull off that 
wig, that it seemed to me, I must do it; my fingers 
itched ; I began almost to tremble with the excitement. 
I looked at my father. He saw nothing. All were at- 
tentively listening to the preacher. I must do i^; so, 
looking straight at the minister, and giving one sharp, 
sudden jerk, off came the wig. I let go of the string; 
poor Billy sprung from his seat, and, clasping both 
hands to his head, cried, "Goo — Goo — Good Lord!" — 
to the astonishment of the congregation. But there 
in our pew lay the wig, with pin and string attached, 
as positive evidence against me. One look at my fa- 
ther's face, convinced me that "I had done it," and 
should "catch it," and "catch it" I did. My father 
waited till Monday, and in the morning conducted me 
to Billy Bennett's, and made me beg his pardon very 
humbly. Billy was very good-natured, and actually 
tried to beg me off; but my father declared he would 
"dust my jacket for me." And he did; or at any 
rate, would have dusted it most thoroughly, but he 
made me take it off — so that the jacket was none the 
better for the "dusting," but my shoulders and back 
"suffered some," and it served me right. All through 
my life this tendency to "make fun" has been of no 
advantage to me, though it has given me many a 
hearty laugh. 

When I was about nine years old, my father en- 
tered the service of the Eev. J. D. Glennie, a clergy- 
man of the church of England, and chaplain to Lord 
Darnley, residing in the village, and officiating in the 
chapel of ease built by his lordship — there having 
been, previously, but one house of worship in the 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 41 

place, and that a small Methodist chapel.^ We there- 
fore lived together, as my father was a day servant, 
and slept at home. He was a Methodist; my mother 
was a Baptist, and had been, while living in Lon- i 

don, a member of Surrey Chapel, under the pas- 
torate of the celebrated Rowland Hill. Rev. New- 
man Hall is the minister in charge now. My mother 
generally attended, with my father, the Methodist t 

chapel; yet she would occasionally walk to Folke- 
stone, or Hythe, to attend a church of her own de- 
nomination. I well remember many a walk I had 
with her! Hythe was but three mike distant; and 
quite a famous town that was to me ! It was one of 
the Cinque Ports, or Five Havens, which — being op- 
posite to the coast of France — were so named for 
their superior importance in time of war; and at 
that time hostility to France seemed the natural in- 
heritance of the people. 

At very remote periods, these ports or havens were 
endowed, by royal grants, with many valuable privi- ff 

leges and immunities. Among these were: an ex- 
emption from all taxes and tolls; power to punish 
foreigners as well as natives, who were guilty of theft ; 
to have a pillory, and a cocking (i. e. ducking) stool, 
for the punishment of scolds, or brawling women — 
"if any such should be found in the district." But^ 
in return for this, the ports were required to fit out a 
certain number of ships, in time of war, with a quota 
of men, to attend the King's service for iifteen days, 
at their own expense. The ports were : Dover, Sand- 
wich, Romney, Hastings, and Hythe. The church of 
St. Leonard's, at Hythe, was famous, among other 
things, for an enormous collection of human skulls and 



4 



42 AUTOBiOGRArHY OF joh:s' b. gough. 

bones. Within the vault the pile was twenty-eight 
feet in length, eight feet in breadth, and of equal 
height. They were said to be the bones of combat- 
ants slain in a battle between the ancient Britons and 
the Saxons, about the year 456, on the shore between 
Folkestone and Hythe. Whenever we visited the 
town, we usually went to see the bones. They were 
quite the show of the place. I have seen them scores 
of times. 

At this time but little occurred to ruffle the calm 
surface of our lives. We did as others do who are 
poor — fought xbr daily bread. In the autumn, mother 
and sister and I would go gleaning the ears that fell 
from the reapers in the wheat field, and often return 
jioaded with the bundles of grain thus gathered. 
Then, some Saturday afternoon, when mother's school 
"didn't keep," we would clear all the furniture from 
the room (little enough there was), lay our treasure 
of wheat on the floor, and with sticks, thrash it out, 
and winnow it with a pair of bellows. We children 
thought it rare fun. But the crowning joy to me 
was, when I was permitted to take the bag of grain 
to the mill, a mile away. That was an event! I, 
like all boys, was fond of riding, and I could often 
get a ride on a jackass; but a horse — that was the 
height of my ambition! On the occasion of taking 
our gleaned wheat to the mill, Mr. Laker was applied 
to, a day or two before, for the loan of his white 
horse; and, till the longed-for morning, I would think 
all day, and dream all night, of riding in every possi- 
ble posture, on a white horse. What a horse that 
was! Blind, lame, raw-boned; always hanging his 
head, as if ashamed of himself; but still, to me, a 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 



43 



very Bucephalus! How exalted a position, seated 
on the bag thrown across his back, with the reins of 
rope in my hands, and a stout stick- mother and 
Mary standing admiringly at the door to see me off! 
How I would make circuits round the village to show 
myself on horseback! Then off to the mill — deliver 
the grain — and display my horsemanship; which I 
generally did so effectually, that I could hardly walk 
for a day or two; for he was a mighty hard trotter, 
with a backbone like a case-knife. But I endured 
my martyrdom with a calm smile of exultation. 
Then Fair Day came every year on the 23d of July ; 
and for that, all our spare farthings were carefully 
hoarded, until I remember one fine day we counted 
eight pence between us — my sister and I. 

These fairs are of very ancient date; sometimes 
called feasts, or shows, held at certain seasons of the 
year. In ancient times, fairs may have had their uses; 
but they have degenerated sadly. How can I describe 
a village fair? — the main street lined with booths, 
filled with toys, ribbons, crockery, and gilded ginger- 
bread. Then, on the village green — (and this green 
was right before our house) — are larger booths, with 
flaring painted canvas, announcing to the gaping 
crowd that a mermaid and a giant are to be seen 
within. On another, we read that the pig-flxced lady 
and the spotted boy have just arrived from Bottle- 
Nose Bay, in the West Indies. Then the calf with 
two heads; and the "ambiguous" cow, that can't live 
on the land and dies in the water, — all to be seen for 
the small charge of one penny! "Here is a Panuy- 
rammer of the procession of the Monarch of Injy 
on his helephant;" there are cheap Jacks bawling their 



I 



I 



44 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHiq" B. GOUGH. 

wares. " Here's such a saw as you never saw saw, in 
all the days you ever saw; there's a whip as is a 
whip : there never was but two of 'em made, and the 
man died, and took the patent with him. Yy, this 
whip will make my 'orse go; — and you know vot he 
is." All sorts of shows, swings, merry-go-rounds, skit- 
tles, greasy-pole climbing, running in sacks, donkey 
races, — the slowest donkey to win, and no man al- 
lowed to ride his own donkey. Conjurors' booths. 
Continued cries of " Valk up ! valk up ! — Just a-going 
to begin." Pantomimes — Clowns, Harlequins, Panta- 
loons, and Columbines. Music resounds on every side. 
"Music hath charms," etc. Drums, fifes, penny whis- 
tles, cat-calls, hurdy-gurdys, bagpipes, horns, gongs — 
all playing together — make such music as is only 
heard at a country fair, — the dread of anxious moth- 
ers, and the paradise of children. 

On the 5th of November came Guy Fawkes' day. 
When I was a boy, it was kept with the greatest en- 
thusiasm by all the boys. In our village there would 
be five or six Guys. Some dozen boys would agree 
together to have a Guy, and would select one of the 
number and dress him for the occasion in a large 
smock-frock, stuffed out with straw; a shocking bad 
hat, or — better — an old soldier's cap ; a short pipe in 
his mouth, a mask on his face, a sword in one hand, 
and a dark lantern and matches in the other.* Thus 
thoroughly disguised, they would seat him on a don- 
key, led by two of the number ; two preceding, the 
rest following, two by two ; stopping at every house, 
— when the followers would form a circle round the 

*rrom this, originated the expression, "What a Guy" — when any one ap- 
peared particularly ridiculous. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN^ B. GOUGH. 

Guy, and recite what they called the lurry. 
I was interested in Guys, this was the lurry :— 

"Remember, remember the fifth of November, 
Gunpowder treason and plot; 
I know no reason why gunpowder treason 
Should ever^be forgot. 

"Old Guy and his companions 
Did the plot contrive 
To blow the King's Parliament House 
Ail up alive. 

"Thirty-six barrels of gunpowder 
Laid down below, 
To blow all England's overthrow. 
Happy was the man, and happy was the day, 
Catcht old Guy Fawkes going to his prey ; 
Dark lantern and matches in his hand, 
All ready to set prime. 
Stand off! stand off! you dirty dog, 
Your hands and face as black as soot, 
Like unto a cloven foot. 
Holler, boys — holler, boys — 

Make your voices ring; 
Holler, boys — holler, boys — 

God save the King ! 

\J'- Hooray," hy the company, 

"Madam, madam, there you stand, 
In your pocket put your hand, 
There you'll find a little chink 
For the Pope and I to drink. 
A penny loaf to stuff him out, 
A pint of beer to make him drunk, 
And a good faggot to burn him. 

Ij' Hooray" hy ilie company. 

"Hark, devil — hark ! What's to be douo? 
Hang him on a long polo. 
And there let him burn ! " 

l^'-Flnal hooray" hy the company. 



45 
When 



46 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHJT B. GOUGH. 

The money obtained was spent on fire-works, and 
material for a bonfire in the evening. 

These things have all, or nearly all, passed away, 
and we cannot regret their departure; though in 
childhood they were the events of the year, — always 
looked forward to with interest, and prepared for 
with enthusiasm. 

I am fifty-two years of age; but, as I call these 
scenes to mind, I seem to grow young again. How 
busy we were, days and even weeks before May-Day, 
preparing for the festival of flowers ! How proud we 
boys were, to carry the garland! May-Day, Guy 
Fawkes' Day, Fair Day, Good-Friday — with the hot 
cross-buns — Easter, Whitsuntide, and Merry Christ- 
mas, — are sunny spots in my memory. And yet, 
early in life I knew something of its battles, as well 
as its holidays, and tasted much of the bitter, as well 
as the sweet. One long look at these days, before I 
turn to the hard work without a holiday; one loving, 
lingering thought of my childhood, ere I pass on to 
tell of the stern, hard realities of life, as I found it 
for many a weary year. Perhaps I have lingered too 
long in the path of childhood, where a few flowers 
bloomed by the way-side; where, light of heart, I 
sometimes wove them into garlands. The garlands 
are withered, the flowers are faded, — but the recol- 
lections of forty years ago remain. 



CHAPTER m. 

Departure for America — Leaving the Village — Separation from my 
Mother — London — On Board Ship — Anchored oflf Sandgate — Visits 
from Friends — My Father, Mother, and Sister — The Voyage — Sandy 
Hook — New York — Journey to the Farm — Extracts from Letters. 

A VERY important change in my fortunes now 
occurred. I was twelve years of age, and my father, 
being unable to furnish the premium necessary to 
my learning a trade, and having no prospect for me 
other than to be a gentleman's servant, made an 
agreement with a family of our village, who were 
about emigrating to America, that they, in considera- 
tion of the sum of ten guineas paid by him, should 
take me with them, teach me a trade, and provide 
for me until I was twenty-one years of age. After 
much hesitation, my mother, from a sense of duty, 
yielded to this arrangement. I, boylike, felt in high 
glee at the prospect before me. My little arrange- 
ments having been completed, on the 4th of June, 
1829, 1 took — as I then supposed — a last view of my 
native village. The evening I was about to depart, 
a neighbor invited me to take tea at her house, which 
I did. My mother remarked to me afterwards: "I 
wish you had taken tea with your mother, John;" 
and this little circumstance was a source of much 
pain to me in after years. 

The parting from my beloved parents was bitter. 



48 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

Mj poor mother folded me to her bosom; then she 
would hold me off at arm's length, and gaze fondly 
on my face, through her tearful eyes, reading — as 
only a mother could — the book of futurity for me. 
She hung up, on the accustomed peg, my old cap and 
jacket, and my school bag, and there they remained 
until — years after — she quitted the house. At length 
the parting words* were spoken, and I left the home 
of my childhood — perhaps, forever. 

A touching scene it was, as I went through the 
village, towards the coach office, that evening. As I 
passed through the streets, many a kind hand waved 
a farewell, and not a few familiar voices sounded out 
a hearty "God bless youl" There was one old dame, 
of whom I had frequently bought sweetmeets, at her 
green grocery, and who was familiarly called Granny 
Hogben; — she called me into her shop, and loaded 
me with good wishes, bull's-eyes, cakes, and candies, 
although — poor affectionate soul ! — she could ill afford 
it. The inn was reached, and, in company with an- 
other lad — who was going out with our family to 
meet a relative — I mounted the roof of the London 
night coach, and was quitting the village, when, on 
turning round to take a last look of it, I saw a 
crouching woman's figure by a low wall, near the 
bathing machines. My heart told me at once that it 
was my mother, — who had taken advantage of half 
an hour's delay at the inn door, and walked on some 
distance, to have one more glance at her departing 
child. I had never, till then, felt that I was loved so 
much. 

My mother took our separation very keenly to 
heart. My sister has told me that she would sit, as 



I 

i 



i 




1-1 

I— C 

H 



o 
o 



g 



I 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 



51 



if in deep tli ought, looking out in the distance, as 
though she saw something far away ; and sometimes 
my sister would see her at night, standing by the win- 
dow, looking out at the sea for hours. When spoken 
to on these occasions, she would start and sigh, and 
creep quietly to her bed. 

When we arrived at Ashford, we were placed inside 
the vehicle. Amongst many things which impressed 
me on my journey, was the circumstance of a poor, 
shivering woman, begging alms at the coach door at 
midnight, for whom I felt keenly. At Footscray I 
was again placed outside the coach. On arriving near 
the metropolis, objects of interest increased every mo- 
ment ; and, when fairly in the great city, of which I 
had heard so much, I was almost bewildered with the 
crowds, and the multiplicity of attractive objects. A 
fight between two bellicose individuals, was almost 
my first town entertainment. 

Whilst I remained in London I saw some of the 
great gratuitous attractions, — such as St. Paul's, the 
Tower, the Eoyal Exchange, the Mansion-House, and 
the Monument — to the summit of which I ascended, 
and surveyed from thence the mighty mass of brick, 
and smoke, and shipping ! On the lOtli of June, eve- 
rything being arranged, we sailed from the Thames in 
the ship Helen. Passing Dover, we arrived ofl" Sand- 
gate, when it fell a dead calm, and the ship's anchors 
were dropped. I afibrded some amusement to those 
around me, by the eagerness with which I seized a 
telescope, and the positiveness with which I averred 
that I saw my old home. During that day, boat after 
boat came off to us from the shore; and friends of 
the family I was with, paid them visits; — but I was 



52 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN" B. GOUGH. 

unnoticed; mj relatives did not come. After long 
and ^yeary watching, I saw a man standing up in a 
boat, with a white band round his hat. "That's he! 
— that's my father!" — I shouted. He soon got on 
deck, and almost smothered me with his kisses — from 
which I somewhat shrank, as his beard made very de- 
cided impressions on my smooth skin. I heard that 
my mother and sister had gone to a place of worship, 
at some distance from Sandgate ; which I regretted 
much. When evening came on, our visitors from the 
shore repaired to their boats, which — when a few 
yards from the ship — formed in a half circle. Our 
friends stood up in them, and o'er the calm waters 
floated our blended voices, as we sung : — 

Blest be the dear, uniting love, 

Whicli will not let us part 
Our bodies may far hence remove— 

We still are one in heart. 

Boat after boat then vanished in the gloomy distance, 
and I went to my bed. About midnight I heard my 
name called, and, going on deck, I there found my 
beloved mother and sister, who — hearing on their re- 
turn, that I was in the offing — had paid half a guinea 
(money hardly earned, and with difficulty procured, 
yet cheerfully expended,) to a boatman, to row them 
to the ship. They spent an hour with me (and 0, 
how short it seemed!) — then departed, with many 
tears. Having strained my eyes till their boat was 
no longer discernible, I went back to my bed, to sob 
away the rest of the morning. 

I felt this to be my first real sorrow. Grief, how- 
ever, will wear itself out; and, having slept somewhat, 
when I awoke in the morning — a breeze having 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN" B. GOUGH. 53 

sprung up — we were far out at sea. I never expe- 
rienced any sea-sickness ; and, had my expectations 
respecting the family I was with, been realized, I 
should have been comparatively happy. Occasionally, 
on looking over my small stock of worldly goods, I 
would find little billets, or papers, containing texts of 
scripture, pinned to the different articles. In my 
Bible, texts of scripture were marked for me to com- 
mit to memory. Among them, I remember, were the 
second, third, fourth, and fifth chapters of Proverbs. 
As we voyaged on, I soon began to feel a difference 
in my new situation ; and often did I bitterly contrast 
the treatment I received, with that to which I had 
been accustomed at home. I wished myself back 
again; but the die was cast, and so I put up with 
disagreeables as well as I could. I insert here an ex- 
tract from a letter of mine, written while on board 
ship : — " George and I are the only ones who have 
tumbled down the hatchway. George has fallen 
down twice. Once he hurt his side a little, and then 
he hurt his nose very much. I fell down with a ket- 
tle of hot water; but I held up the kettle, and though 
I was pretty well bumped, I was not scalded. I wish 
mother could wash me to-night. Oh ! when I think 
what a fuss I made when she combed my hair, I am 
much ashamed of myself, and only wish she could 
do it now ; for it is harder to do it myself than it was 
for her to do it." 

On the morning of the 3d of August — fifty-four 
days from the time of sailing — we arrived off Sandy 
Hook ; and 0, how I longed, as we sailed up the Nar- 
rows, to be on deck, and survey the scenery of the 
New World! I was not 'permitted to do this; for, 






54 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHJT B. GOUGH. 

whilst I could hear the shouts of delighted surprise 
which burst from the lips of the passengers who 
crowded the vessel's sides, I was confined below, occu- 
pied in blacking the boots and shoes of the family, in 
order that they might be landed "sound, and in good 
order." We made the land at three o'clock in the 
morning, and were moored at the wharf in New York 
at three o'clock in the afternoon — rather an unusual 
thing, as ships are generally detained some time at 
Staten Island. I had become so tired of biscuit, that 
I most ardently longed for some "soft Tommy," and 
was already munching it in imagination, when my 
guardians went on shore, leaving me behind. I had 
anticipated purchasing some dainties immediately; 
for, having received a little money for a cabbage-net 
which I had made on board, I possessed the requisite 
funds. My capital was, however, not so large as it 
might have been, for I had — ^like other capitalists- 
negotiated a loan with the black cook, to whom I 
advanced an English crown. The principal and in- 
terest remain to this day unpaid ; — not an uncommon 
occurrence, I have been told since, in regard to for- 
eign loans. 

I was left on board all night, as my friends did 
not return; and, during their absence, I sought for 
amusement in gazing from the vessel on the crowded 
wharfs. I well remember my surprise at seeing a 
boy, about my own age, insert a plug of tobacco in 
his mouth; but I soon became accustomed to such 
things as these ; and many, too, of a far stranger na- 
ture. We stayed about two months in. New York City. 
Nothing occurred, of any importance. I strolled some- 
what about the streets, when I had an opportunity, 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 55 

till we started for the farm in Oneida County, to en- 
ter upon another phase of my changed life. I was 
greatly delighted with the scenery on the Hudson 
Eiver, which far surpassed any I had before beheld. I 
had not been a great traveler ; had never been twenty 
miles from home — with the exception of my mem- 
orable ride to Maidstone and back — and this will be 
some excuse for my enthusiastic descriptions in the 
letters I wrote home. 

I deem it advisable here to insert some short pas- 
sages from letters received from home, with extracts 
from my own letters, written during the first two 
years of my new experience. I wish to convey some 
idea of my dear mother's character, as shown in her 
letters to her boy, and give my early impressions of 
the New World, and the new life on which I had en- 
tered. 

Extract from mother's letter, dated March 22, 
1830:— ^ 

Your father "wishes me to say to you now, that it is his particular wish I 

that you should not bind yourself by any further agreement to your jl 

master, or any one else, till you have consulted him on the subject by . jl 

letter, and received his answer; but it is our earnest wish to you, my >] 

dear boy, that you would always behave to your master and mistress ! 

with the greatest fidelity, diligence, and respect. Study his comfort, ! 

and endeavor to promote his interest by every means in your power. jl 

It is your duty and interest to do so, and no ties bind so closely as those 'i 

of affection and gratitude. 

I wish, my dear, when you write again, you would lot mc know if 
you have committed to memory any of the chapters I mentioned to you ; 

in the letter I put among your clothes. You will find them of great 
use to you; more especially, if you are employed at work in the fields, , 

where, perhaps, you will be much alone. Then you will find it a pleas- !• 

ant and profitable employment for your thoughts, to be able to repeat 
to yourself portions of the Word of God. I speak from experience, 
my dear. I have often passed pleasantly many an hour of hard work, 



56 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

by repeating to myself passages of Scripture committed to memory^ 
and I can now remember those best that I learned before I was your ao-e. 

We long to know, my dear, how you got through the severe winter. 
It was very severe here; but I suppose you will find the summer as 
hot as you have felt the winter cold. We shall be happy to hear from 
you as often as you can make it convenient to write to us. 

My dearest boy, I must bid you farewell. May the Lord bless and 
keep you in all your ways ! — is the earnest prayer of your affectionate 
mother. Jane Gough. 

From a letter dated April % 1831 : — 

I hope, my dear, you are well in health and spirits. I do assure 
you, we all of us remember you with unabating affection ; and the ninth 
of every month brings forcibly to my mind the time when I parted from 
you; and I hope, if it be the Lord's will, that we shall meet again in 
this world, if our lives be spared. You have been gone now nearly 
two years, and the time will wear away. 

Your father was pleased that you had taken pains to write your last 
letter so well. He wishes you to practice your writing whenever you 
have an opportunity; and also your ciphering; as it may be of great 
use to you in your future life. 

I hope, my dear boy, you are earnestly seeking after the one thing 
needful. You know, the Lord has said — " they that seek shall find.'' 
It is, my dear boy, the most earnest wish of both of your parents, that 
you may in early life be devoted to the Lord; that you may be his ser- 
vant — serve him — and so, my dear boy, keep close to your Bible. 
Whenever you have an opportunity to read it, prefer it above all other 
books; and may the Lord enable you so to read and understand it, 
that you may be made wise unto eternal salvation. 

And I hope you will not neglect private prayer. " Ask, and you 
shall receive," — is a most gracious promise; and he that has spoken it, 
will perform it. May the Lord guide and keep you in all His ways, 
and bring you at last to His heavenly kingdom ! Adieu ! my dear boy. 
May the Lord bless, keep, and preserve you, and keep you in all His 
ways ! — is the prayer of your ever affectionate mother. 

Jane Gough. 

Extract from a letter written by me a few weeks 
after my arrival in this country : — 

On the 17th of July, as I was looking for Doddridge's Rise and 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 57 

Progress, I found that dear letter whicli my beloved mother put into 
one of my shirts, I could not read it for a long time, and not till I 
had shed a great many tears ; but T shall keep it as a particular treas- 
ure, as there are a great many things which will be of great service to 
me now, as well as in the future. Oh ! as I lay tossed about on the 
wide ocean, I thought of my poor dear mother, and how badly I had 
behaved to her, as also of my dear father; and thought, if I was at 
home, how cheerfully I would go to work for him, and not grumble, 
and go with such unwilling steps as I have done. But I hope, my 
beloved parents, you will forgive all that is past. 

Dear parents, on Sunday, the 2d of August, we were looking out 
for the lights at Sandy Hook, — with that sort of anxiety which my dear j 

father well knows, — after we had been fifty-three days at sea ; but we 
did not see land till the 3d, about sunrise. We drew nearer and 
nearer, with a fine fair wind, which brought us to Sandy Hook about 
twelve o'clock, where the pilot came on board. At about one o'clock 
p. M. we arrived at Staten Island, where the doctor came on deck and 
examined us; also the printer, to take an account of our voyage. 
About three o'clock p. m. we arrived at New York, etc. 

A letter I wrote, dated Sandgate Farm; Westmore- 
land, December 26, 1829: — 

Dear and Honored Pare?2ifs,— Having an opportunity of writing to 
you, T shall endeavor to improve it, by first describing to you our jour- 
ney from New York to this place, which is a very comfortable farm, 
about twelve miles from Utica. 

On the 30th of August we left New York for Albany, when we 
went down to the steamboat, and at five o'clock in the afternoon on 
Saturday, set ofi*, and had such a grand sight all the way up the Hud- 
son E,iver, as I cannot describe to you. It is past description. We 
saw large hills of solid rock, with pine and fir trees growing from be- 
tween the crevices. On the next day we came to the Catskill and 
Alleghany Mountains, which surpassed all we had seen bofore; but 
yet we had something more grand to witness. About six o'clock we 
arrived at Albany, a large and pretty city. On Monday we got our 
luggage out of the steamboat into a canal-boat, in which we staid at 
Albany till four o'clock, and then started for Utica. Wo sat very 
comfortable on deck till sunset. By the bye, wo came through the i 

locks, which — I suppose you know — raised us a great many foot. We 

k 






58 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHX B. GOUGH. 

then -went down to bed. All slept very comfortably, except Sarah, 
"wbo was disturbed by the noise of the waters rushing into the locks — ■ 
for we passed a great many between Albany and Schenectady. The 
first thing that struck our attention in the morning was the Mohawk 
River, running by our side. It is a broad and shallow river. About 
eleven o'clock we crossed the Mohawk, over an aqueduct, and went on 
shore to get some apples. — (In this country people may go into an 
orchard and get as many apples as they can eat.) 

Nothing material occurred till the next day. When we had arrived 
at Little Falls, the sight was grander than anything we had seen before. 
The village is built on a solid rock. It is of no use for me to describe 
it to you, for it is too truly out of my power. I do believe that Eng- 
land cannot boast such a sight — much as I love my native country. 
You can have no idea of the romantic scenery all around, unless you 
were here to see it yourself. We arrived at Utica at midnight ; but 
did not go on shore till Thursday. We took lodgings at a person's 
house, the name of Brown, on Bleeker street, at $7 per month; but 
we left it after we had been there three weeks, and came to the farm 
which master had bought. Our wagon came and fetched us to this 
place. The farm is very comfortable, consisting of one hundred and 
four acres of clear land, and fifty acres of woodland, with a fine or- 
chard and garden, a very comfortable dwelling-house, where we lived, 
and a nice log house. There is also a wood-house, a wagon and 
sleigh lodge, three hog-pens, a granary, stable, two barns, two cow 
lodges, smoke-house, and a good pump. The stock consists of three 
cows — but master talks of having eighteen or twenty in the summer ; 
two horses, three fatting hogs, seven pigs, fifty sheep, a bull, and a 
calf. I like drivin(y our team about. A team in this country is two 
horses. Our wagon is not half so heavy as the English are. The 
horses are put in as you put them in a pair horse coach. I like 
driving about in this way very well. I have been to Clinton four 
times since I have been here, a distance of about three miles from our 
farm ; and to Manchester, about three miles. I rode on horseback to 
Manchester twice, and to Clinton once ; but I have been to Clinton 
three times with our wagon. 

I do indeed, dear parents, think of home with a heavy heart very 
often, but I do try to keep up my spirits. I do sincerely hope we shall 
meet again in this world ; but if it be not the Lord's holy will, I hope 
we shall meet in Heaven, where parting shall be no more. I am sorry 



AUTOBIOGEAPHT OF JOUN B. GOUGH. 



59 



to inform you tliat I cannot comply witli your desire, as there is no Sun- 
day-scliool near jis, nor any Methodist place of worship nearer than 
Yernon Centre, about two miles, except once a month there is preach- 
ing at the next house. But there are Baptist and Presbyterian churches 
nearer; but we generally attend Yernon Centre. We are very sorry to' 
hear you have had a bad summer. We have very sudden changes in 
the weather ; yesterday we worked stripped to our shirts, though it was 
December, and to-day we have had a heavy snow. We have been 
driving our oxen, fetching wood, as master bought a yoke of oxen the 
other day; I am going to learn to drive them. It is " haw and gee " 
here, instead of " woo and gee," as it is in the Old Country. Tell Mrs. 
Beattie I shall never forget her kindness to me, in sending the ginger- 
bread and milk. I hope neither she, nor Mr. Beattie, nor the children 
may ever want any good thing on earth, and that they may all arrive 
safe at last in glory. 

Dear mother, I am not able to give Mrs. Brown a full description 
of America, but I will endeavor to give her, and you, my dear parents, 
a few particulars. First, there is plenty of work for people to do ; and 
if they will but work, they may get a very comfortable living. Second, 
there is plenty of wood for winter; $2 per cord for four-foot wood, and 
8s. per cord for two-foot wood. This money is just half your money. 
Master says he wishes some of the wood that is lying about, was be- 
hind your house. There is enough wood lying about the farm to sup- 
ply hundreds of families; stumps and trees lying round about the 
woods, which they do not care to burn, as they take good timber to 
burn. They never think of grubbing up the stumps when the trees 
have been cut down, but they let them stand and rot. Third, provis- 
ions are very cheap. Bread is Is. per gallon, 6d. your money; beef, 
from l^d. to 2d. per pound; pork, l-|d. per pound. They throw 
away the hog's inwards, and you can buy hog's feet, poles, and ears by 
the bushel. Cows are very cheap. You can get a good cow for S12 
in the spring, and from $12 to $16 in the fall; a good fowl or 
pullett, 4d. to 6d. ; geese and turkeys, Is., your money. I find I 
must conclude, entreating you to give my love to Mr. and Mrs. Yalyor 
and family, and all inquiring friends. Also, accept, beloved parents, 
my every good wish and my sincere love. I expected to have seen a 
longer letter, and a few lines from my dear father. I long to see his 

I am, dear parents, your ever aflectionate son, 

J. B. Gouou. 



handwriting again 



60 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF J0H:N' B. GOUGH. 

Extract from another letter : — 

I have enjoyed pretty good health and spirits since I have been here. 
I have learned a great many things. I can hold the plough, and thrash, 
and plant and hoe corn, plant potatoes, make cider, and do a great 
many things that I knew nothing of before. I was at the harrow with 
the oxen, when I heard there were some letters for me, and soon after, 
Elizabeth brought a packet to me in the field. But I could not work 
any more all day for joy. I like the Yankees pretty well. They are 
open, free, and generous. They very much use the word "guess." 
Thus, if they meant "I shall go to chapel," they would say, "I 
guess I shall go to chapel." 

Yesterday I went to a camp-meeting, which is held once a year, by 
different societies of Methodists. It is generally held in some of the 
woods. When we arrived at the entrance of the woods, where this 
meeting was held, we heard a confused noise; but the first thing that 
struck our attention was a great number of tents or booths, such as are 
used at fau'S. The next, was the voice of prayer in every direction. 
About fifteen engaged in prayer to God at the same time, at different 
prayer-rings, which consisted of about fourteen or fifteen men and wo- 
men met together, and a log to separate the males from the females. 
After we had been there about an hour and a half, the trumpet sounded 
for preaching in the camp. The average number was from five to seven 
thousand. 

After preaching, the prayer-meetings were held for the space of two 
hours in the tents. In the course of the forenoon, I went to see the 
Indians' camp, where I saw the red brethren praying and calling upon 
God. I also saw them fall to the ground, and lie for the space of an 
hour or more, seemingly lifeless. Again, after dinner, the trumpet 
sounded for preaching ; and again they were all collected together before 
the preaching stand to hear preaching. The rule of the meeting is, 
that when the trumpet sounds in the morning at sunrise, it is for them 
to get up; when it sounds from the stand, it is for family prayer; 
when it sounds from the stand again, it is for preaching. The males 
and females are separated at preaching, the men on one side, and the 
women on the other. The meeting lasts about five days, and ,at the 
close of this meeting there were forty-five awakened. 



CHAPTER IV. 



Farm Life — Keligious Impressions — Return to New York — My First 
Situation and Lodgings — Friends — Extracts from Letters — Change 
of Employment — Arrival of my Mother and Sister — Housekeep- 
ing — Lack of Work — A Hard Winter — My Mother's Sickness — 
Spring — Better Times. 

We went to a farm in Oneida County^ where I re- 
mained two years, during which period I was never 
sent to either a Sabbath or day school. I felt this 
much, as I had an ardent desire to acquire knowl- 
edge, and, tiring of so unprofitable a life, and perceiv- 
ing also, that no chance existed of my being taught 
a trade, I sold a knife for the purpose of paying the 
postage of a letter to my father, in which I asked his 
permission to go to New York, and learn a trade. I 
sent off this letter clandestinely, because, hitherto, 
all my letters home had been perused by my guar- 
dians before they were dispatched, and I did not wish 
their interference in this matter. In due time I re- 
ceived a reply to my letter. My father said that I 
was old enough now to judge for myself I might 
act according to the dictates of my own judgment. 
Glad enough was I to have my fate in my own hands, 
as it were, and on the 12th of December, 1S31, I 
quitted Oneida County for New York City. It may 
easily be imagined, that I left my situation with but 
very little regret, for, although by some of the mem- 
bers of the family I was treated with consideration 



62 AUTOBIOGEAPHT OF JOH^" B. GOUGH. 

and kindness^ yet from those to whom I naturally 
looked for comfort and solace, I experienced treat- 
ment far different from that which my father antici- 
pated, when he intrusted me to their guardianship. 
Here, I beg to make a remark, which is rendered nec- 
essary from the fact of it having been stated that I 
have represented the family as dissipated and drunken. 
Such a report never was made by me at any time, or 
in any place ; nor did there exist foundation for such 
a rumor. Whisky and cider were used by the fam- 
ily, but not to excess. In pure self-defense, I make 
this statement. I should not have referred to this 
subject, had not a meddlesome fellow in New York 
City busied himself about my affairs, impeached my 
veracity, and imputed to me motives which I never 
entertained. 

Whilst with the family referred to, a revival of 
religion occurred in our neighborhood. My mind 
was much impressed, and I was admitted a member, 
on probation, of the Methodist Episcopal Church. 

On my arrival in New York, I had half a dollar 
only in my pocket; and all the goods I possessed in 
the world were contained in a little trunk, which I 
carried. I stood at the foot of Cortlandt Street, after 
I left the boat. Hundreds of people went by, on 
busy feet, heedless of me, and I felt desolate indeed. 
But, amidst all my lonely sorrow, the religious im- 
pressions I have just referred to, — and more especially 
those which I had derived from the instructions of my 
beloved mother, — afforded some rays of consolation, 
which glimmered through the gloom. Whilst I was 
standing, pondering whither I should bend my steps, 
a man came up to me, and asked where he should 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 



63 



carry my trunk. Then, indeed, tlie strong sense of 
my forlornness came to me, and I scarcely ever re- 
member to have experienced more bitterness of spirit 
than on that occasion. Fancy me, reader! a boy, but 
fourteen years of age, a stranger, in a strange city; 
with no one to guide him, none to advise, and not a 
single soul to love, or to be loved by. There I was, 
three thousand miles distant from home and friends; 
a ^^waif on life's wave," solitary in the midst of thou- 
sands, and with a heart yearning for kindly sympathy, 
but finding none. Whilst musing on my fortunes, all 
at once the following passage entered my mind, and 
afforded me consolation : " Trust in the Lord, and do 
good ; so shalt thou dwell in the land, and verily thou 
shalt be fed." Shouldering my trunk, I entered the 
city ; and having left my load in charge of a person, 
I repaired to the Brown Jug, a public house in Pearl 
Street; in which place I remained until the Monday 
morning following, when I was recommended to apply 
to the venerable Mr. Dando, who was then the agent 
of the Christian Advocate and Journal. To this gen- 
tleman I told my story ; after hearing which, he went 
with me to the Methodist Book Concern (then situ- 
ated in Crosby Street), where, after some conversa- 
tion, I was engaged to attend on the next Wednesday, 
as errand boy, and to learn the book-binding business; 
and, for my services, to receive two dollars and twenty- 
five cents per week, and to board mj'self Mr. Dando 
recommended me as a boarder to a Mrs. M., in Wil- 
liam Street, at the rate of two dollars weekly; and 
low as were the terms, the reader will presently agree 
with me in thinkino; that it was flir too much for the 
accommodation I received. To my surprise. 1 found 



64 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

when the hour of rest approached, that I was to share 
a bed with an Irishman, who was lying very sick of 
fever and ague. The poor fellow told me his little 
history; I experienced the truth of the saying, that 
"poverty makes us acquainted with strange bed-fel- 
lows." He had emigrated to America, been attacked 
with the disease I have mentioned, and now was out 
of money, but daily in the expectation of receiving 
some from his friends. My companion shivered so 
much, and was so restless during the night, that I 
was wretchedly disturbed; and next day, I told my 
landlady that I could not possibly sleep in the same 
bed with the Irishman again. Accordingly, the next 
night, she made me up a wretched couch, in the same 
room, under the rafters. It was hard enough, and 
what is called a cat's-tail bed ; and so miserably sit- 
uated was it, that when I stretched my hand out, to 
pull up the scanty supply of bed-clothes, my fingers 
would encounter the half glutinous webs of spiders, — a 
species of insect, to which I have had from childhood 
(and still have), an unaccountable, but deep-rooted an- 
tipathy. Weary as I was, from want of sleep on the 
preceding night, I soon fell asleep in my uneasy bed; 
but in the dead of the night, frightful groans uttered 
by my sick companion woke me. I started and found, 
to my surprise, that the man was up. I was dread- 
fully frightened, more especially as he informed me 
that he feared he was going to die. I asked him to 
let me call assistance ; but he positively forbade it, 
and then went and sat on the side of the bed. And 
never had I heard such agonizing exclamations, as 
broke from the lips of that dying man, as he called 
with terrible earnestness, on Christ to save him, and 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 65 

on God to be merciful to him. He seemed anxious 
to know the hour. I told him I thought it was near 
morning, as the cock had crowed. After some more 
moaning noises, he suddenly fell back on the bed. I 
heard a rattling, gurgling sound; and then all was si- 
lent. I felt the man was dead, although I could not 
see him, and knew that I was alone with Death, for 
the first time. ! how slowly dragged on the hours 
until dawn; and, when the faint light struggled 
through a little window in the roof, and gradually 
brought out the walls and furniture from the gloom, 
there lay the dead man on his back, his mouth wide 
open, and his eyes glazed, but staring only as dead 
eyes can. With a desperate efibrt, I started from my 
bed, gathered my clothes in a bundle, dressed myself 
outside the room door, and roused the woman of the 
house. She received the intelligence with about as 
much composure as if Death had paid her house an 
expected and customary visit, and only remarked, 
^^Well, dear soul! he was very patient, and is gone to 
glory." After the poor man's death, his expected 
funds arrived ; but, alas ! too late. This was my first 
experience in a cheap boarding-house in New York ; 
but not the last, by any means. For lack of comfort, 
for want of all that makes life enjoyable, a cheap 
boarding-house in New York — and I presume else- 
where — stands pre-eminent. I soon afterwards went 
to my work, and my business was to pack up bundles 
of books for Cincinnati. As I was working, I fell into 
a train of thought respecting my desolate situation; 
and, as I mused, the scalding tears fell in large drops 
on the paper I was using. Into the very depths of 
my sorrow a kind heart looked ; for, whilst I was 



QQ AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHX B. GOUGH. 

weeping, a young lady came to me, and asked me 
what was the matter ? Her tone of kindness and look 
of sympathy, won my confidence, and I informed her 
of the particulars of my little history. When I had 
finished my tale, she said, ^^Toor distressed child! you 
shall go home with me to-night." I did so ; and, when 
I arrived at her house, I saw her mother, who was en- 
gaged in frying cakes on the stove. The young girl 
took her mother aside, into an inner room, and pres- 
ently, the latter came out, and said to me, "Poor boy! 
I will be a mother to you." These words fell like re- 
freshing dew on my young heart ; and mother and 
sister, indeed, did the benevolent Mrs. Egbert and her 
daughter prove to me. Soon after this, I joined the 
church in Allen Street ; and, after remaining with the 
Egberts some months, I removed and boarded with 
my class-leader, Mr. Anson "Willis, and afterwards, with 
a Mrs. Ketchum. Some gentlemen connected with 
the Methodist Church, made propositions for my 
education. I give the extract from a letter I wrote 
home on the occasion, dated February 18, 1832: — 

The people of Grod have taken notice of me. The minister of Allen 
Street Church sent for me, and told me, that since the ministers and 
leaders had heard me speak in a love-feast, they thought the Lord had 
blessed me with abilities for some purpose, therefore they had it under 
consideration, to give me a good and liberal education. He asked to 
see my writing, and told me I wrote very well. Soon after, at a lead- 
ers' meeting, it was proposed to send me, for a year, to Wilbraham, in 
Massachusetts, and then three years to IMiddletown College, in Connec- 
ticut, to educate, if the Lord should call me, to be a minister. If not, 
they would provide me with a profitable situation. All my fiiends 
think it a grand offer, and will be productive of great good to me, and 
prepare me for a life of usefulness in the world. So you see the Lord 
has not brought me so far for no purpose. I think you can have no 
objection, as I believe it is the hand of the Lord. Write to me, etc. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOH^T B. GOUGH. 



67 



I received a reply to this, dated April, 1832, in 
which, after expressing her gratitude to those who 
had shown me kindness, my dear mother writes : — 

My dear cliild, you have nothing but what you have received as a 
free gift from the Almighty. Every talent you possess is His, given 
you to be employed for His glory, and your own everlasting good, and 
of which He will require an account in that day, when the sons of Adam 
shall stand before Him. Oh ! that you may be prepared to give it with 
joy, and hear the welcome, "Well done, good and faithful servant, "-r- 
and your mother's heart can wish for no more. Excuse, my dear boy, 
these cautions ; I have never witnessed anything in your conduct, or 
noticed anything in your letters, that has caused me to fear for you ; but 
I know you have an arch enemy to contend with, who, if he cannot 
destroy, will distress, and endeavor to hinder your comfort and useful- 
ness ; and you will find you have need in every step of your Christian 
pilgrimage, to say, "Lord, hold thou me up, and I shall be safe;" and 
if you trust Him, watching with prayer, you will ever find, "As your 
day is, so shall your strength be; for the mouth of the Lord hath 
spoken it." 

My father also wrote me, very affectionately, with 
good advice in reference to the prospects held out 
before me, and giving his consent; but before these 
letters reached me, circumstances — or rather, a combi- 
nation of circumstances — led to the project being 
abandoned ; to my withdrawing from the church ; and, 
shortly after that, to leaving the Book Concern in 
Mulberry Street, and finding employment elsewhere, 
so that my hope of obtaining an education fell to 
the ground, and from that time, I gave up all expecta- 
tion of ever attaining to it. I obtained employment 
with N. J. White (I think at the corner of William and 
Pearl Streets), and, as my prospects were improving. I 
sent for my father, mother, and sister to join me in 
this country ; though I must say, that being exposed to 
temptation, I had become careless and thoughtless 



68 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

about religious things. On Saturday afternoon^ in 

August, 1833, this note was brought to me : — 

Thursday. 
My Dear Boy, — Your sister and I are on board the President packet. 
Come on board as soon as she comes into dock. We are well. Your 
affectionate mother, Jane Gough. 

I immediately left my work, intending to go to 
them, and was on my way down Fulton Street, when 
the sole of my shoe got loose, and I stepped into the 
bindery of Burlock & Wilbur (where I had directed 
my relatives to call on their arrival) to get a knife to 
cut it off, when I learned that my mother had called 
at the store, a short time before, and had left to go to 
William Street. I turned into that thoroughfare, and 
saw a little woman, rapidly walking, whom I recog- 
nized as her of whom I was in search. She looked 
every now and then, at a slip of paper, which she 
held in her hand, and frequently glanced from it to 
the fronts of the houses, as if to ascertain some par- 
ticular number. Much as I desired to speak to her, 
I thought I would try whether she would recognize 
me or not; so I went behind her, passed on a little 
way, then turned and met her; but she did not ob- 
serve who I was. I again went behind her, and ex- 
claimed, "Mother!" At the well-knpwn sound, she 
turned, and in an instant she had clasped me in her 
arms, and embraced me in a very maternal manner 
— heedless of the staring passers-by, who were very 
little used to having such public displays of affection 
provided for their amusement. I returned with my 
mother to the barge, in order to get her luggage ; 
and, when there, was surprised by a great girl jump- 
ing into my arms, who was so altered from the time I 



I 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 69 

saw her last, that I had some difficulty in recognizing 
my sister. My father did not accompany his wife 
and daughter, for he was loth to lose his hard-earned 
pension, and was in hopes to effect a commutation 
with the government, and receive a certain sum, in 
lieu of an annual payment. 

At that time I was in the receipt of three dollars 
a week, wherewith to support myself; and, with the 
few articles my mother brought over, we went to 
housekeeping. ! how happy did I feel that even- 
ing, when my mother first made tea in our own 
home. Our three cups and saucers made quite a 
grand show, and, in imagination, we were rich in 
viands, although our meal was frugal enough. 

Thus we lived comfortably together, nothing of 
note occurring, until the November following; when, 
owing to a want of business, and the general pressure 
of the times, I was dismissed from my place of work. 
This was a severe blow to us all, and its force was in- 
creased, by my sister, who was a straw-bonnet maker, 
also losing her employment. Our rent was a dollar 
and a quarter per week; but, finding it necessary to 
retrench in our expenditure, we gave up our two 
rooms, and made one answer our purpose; dividing 
it into compartments at night, by hanging up a tem- 
porary curtain. Our rent was now reduced to fifty 
cents a week, and all our goods and chattels were 
contained in the garret, which we continued to occupy 
until my mother's death. 

Things gradually grew worse and worse. Winter, 
in all its terrors, was coming on us, who were ill pre- 
pared for it. To add to our troubles, wood, during 

that season, was very high in price; and, in addition 

5 



70 AUTOBIOGHAPHY OF JOHK B. GOUGH. 

to want, we suffered dreadfully with cold. I obtained 
employment only at uncertain intervals, and for short 
periods, as errand boy in a bookstore, in Nassau 
Street, and in a bindery; but, even with this aid, we 
were sorely off, and painfully pinched. Thus was the 
whole of that dreary winter one continued scene of 
privation. Our sorrows w^ere aggravated by my poor 
mother's sickness, and our apparel began to grow 
wretchedly scanty. I remember my mother once 
wishing for some broth, made from mutton. Not be- 
ing able to bear that she should want for anything she 
required, I took my best coat, and, having pawned it, 
procured her some meat, and thus supplied her wants, 
so far as practicable. Often and often have I, when 
we were destitute of wood, and had no money to 
procure any, gone a mile or two into the country, 
and dragged home such pieces as I might find lying 
about the sides oi the road. Food, too, was some- 
times wanting; and once, seeing my mother in tears, 
I ascertained that we had no bread in the house. I 
could not bear the sight of such distress, and wan- 
dered dov/n a street, sobbing as I went. A stranger 
accosted me, and asked me what was the matter? 

"I'm hungry," said I; "and so is my mother." 
"Well," said the stranger, "I can't do much; but I'll 
help you a little ;" and when I took the three-cent loaf 
of bread he had given me home, my mother placed 
the Bible on our old rickety pine table, and, having 
opened it, read a portion of Scripture, and then we 
knelt down, thanking God for his goodness, and ask- 
ing his blessing on what we were about to partake 
of All these sufferings and privations my poor 
mother bore with Christian resignation, and never 



AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 



71 



r I 

did she repine through all that dreary season. It was 
indeed a hard winter. Often have I gone through 
the streets asking for work. 

"Please let me saw your wood?" 

"Where are your buck and saw?" 

"I have none." 

"You can't saw wood without a saw." 

"Please let me carry down your coal to the cellar?" 

"Where are your shovel and basket?" 

"I have none." 

And so I lost many a job for the lack of implements 
and tools. Those who have never experienced hard- 
ships like these, cannot understand the bitterness of 
our lives all through that terrible winter. As the 
spring came on, both my sister and myself got em- 
ployment again, and our situation was bettered for a 
time. I now earned four dollars and a half a week, 
and was enabled to redeem my c(5at. A happy day 
was that, when putting it on, I went, with my sister, 
to a place of worship. I would here mention, that 
during all that hard winter, we received no charitable 
assistance from any source. Once, and only once, my 
mother spoke of some wood which was to be given 
to the poor at the City Hall; but I refused to allow 
her to apply for relief there ; knowing well, that she 
would be subjected to the insulting questions of hard- 
hearted officials, who took advantage of their office, 
to insult the unfortunate children of penury. Pity 
it is, that kind actions cannot always be performed in 
a kindly spirit; but too often, such is not the case in! 
this cold-hearted world. Glad to this day, am I, that 
I prevented her from being mortified by a contumoly, 
which I cannot bear to think she should have borne. 



CHAPTEE V. 

My Mother's Death — Burial — Separation of my Sister and Myself — 
Visit to the Farm — Eeturn to New York — My Companions and 
Amusements — Growing Dissipation — Removal to Bristol — To Prov- 
idence — First Attempt on the Stage — Experience in Boston — Work 
in Newburyport — Fishing Voyage — Narrow Escape — Return Home 
— Storm at Sea — Jake's Terror — Arrival at Newburyport — Mar- 
riage — Housekeeping — Voyage to Bay of Fundy. 

And now comes one of the most terrible events 
of my history. An event which almost bowed me to 
the dust. The summer of 1834 was exceedingly hot^ 
and as our room was immediately under the roof, 
which had but one small window in it, the heat was 
almost intolerable, and my mother suffered much from 
this cause. On the 8th of July, a day more than 
usually warm, she complained of debility, but as she 
had before suffered from weakness, I was not appre- 
hensive of danger, and saying I would go and bathe, 
asked her to provide me some rice and milk, against 
seven or eight o'clock, when I should return. That 
day my spirits were unusually exuberant; I laughed 
and sung with my young companions, as if not a cloud 
was to be seen in all my sky, when one was then 
gathering which was shortly to burst in fatal thunder 
over my head. About eight o'clock I returned home, 
and was going up the steps, whistling as I went, when 
my sister met me at the threshold, and seizing me by 
the hand, exclaimed, "John, mother's dead!" What 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 



73 



I did, what I said, I cannot remember; but they 
told me afterwards, that I grasped my sister's arm, 
laughed frantically in her face, and then for some 
minutes seemed stunned by the dreadful intelligence. 
As soon as they permitted me, I visited our garret, — 
now a chamber of death, — and there on the floor lay 
all that remained of her whom I had loved so well, 
and who had been a friend when all others had for- 
saken me. There she lay, her face tied up with a 
handkerchief : — 

** By foreign hands her aged eyes were closed ; 
By foreign hands her decent limbs composed." 

Oh ! how vividly came then to my mind, — as I took 
her cold hand in mine, and gazed earnestly in her 
quiet face, — all her meek, enduring love, her uncom- 
plaining spirit, her devotedness to her husband and 
children. All was now over ; and yet, as through the 
livelong night I sat at her side, — a solitary watcher by 
the dead, — ^I felt som*ewhat resigned to the dispensa- 
tion of providence, and was almost thankful that she 
was taken from the " evil to come." Sorrow and suf- 
fering had been her lot through life ; now she was 
freed from both ; and, loving her as I did, I found con- 
solation in thinking that she was " not lost, but gone 
before."*^ 

I have intimated that I sat all night, watching my 
mother's cold remains. Such was literally the fact. 
I held her dead hand in mine, till it seemed almost to 
be growing warm, and none but myself and God can 
tell what a night of agony that was. The people of 
the house accommodated my sister below. AVhen 
the morning dawned in my desolate chamber, I ten- 
derly placed the passive hand by my mother's side, 



74 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

and wandered out, into the as yet, almost quiet streets. 
I turned my face towards the wharf, and, arrived there, 
sat down by the dock, gazing with melancholy 
thoughts upon the glancing waters. All that had 
passed seemed to me like a fearful dream, and with 
difficulty could I, at certain intervals, convince my- 
self that my mother's death was a fearful reality. An 
hour or two passed away in this dreamy, half-delirious 
state of mind, and then, I involuntarily proceeded 
slowly toward my wretched home. I had eaten 
nothing since the preceding afternoon ; but hunger 
seemed, like my other senses, to have become torpid. 
On my arrival at our lodgings, I found, that a coroner's 
inquest had been held on my mother's corpse, and a 
note had been left by the official, which stated that it 
must be interred by noon of the following day. What 
was I to do ? I had no money, no friends, and, what 
was perhaps worse than all, none to sympathize with 
myself and my sister, but the people about us, who 
could afford the occasional exclamation, " Poor things ! " 
Again I wandered into the streets, without any defi- 
nite object in view. I had a vague idea that my 
mother was dead, and must be buried, and little feel- 
ing beyond that. At times, I even forgot this sad re- 
ality. Weary and dispirited, I at last once more 
sought my lodgings, where my sister had been 
anxiously watching for me. I learned from her, 
that during my absence, some persons had brought 
a pine box to the house, into which they had placed 
my mother's body, and taken it off in a cart, for 
interment. They had but just gone, she said. I told 
her that we must go and see mother buried; and we 
hastened after the vehicle, which we soon overtook. 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 



75 



There was no "pomp and circumstance" about 
that humble funeral ; but never went a mortal to the 
grave, who had been more truly loved, and was then 
more sincerely lamented, than the silent traveler 
towards Potter's Field, the place of her interment. 
Only two lacerated and bleeding hearts mourned for 
her. But, as the almost unnoticed procession passed 
through the streets, tears of more genuine sorrow 
were shed, than frequently fall when — 

*' Some proud cWld of earth returns to dust." 

'We soon reached the burying-ground. In the 
same cart with my mother, was another mortal whose 
spirit had put on immortality. A little child's coffin 
lay beside that of her who had been a sorrowful pil- 
grim for many years, and both now were about to lie 
side by side in the "narrow house." When the in- 
fant's coffin was taken from the cart, my sister burst 
into tears, and the driver, a rough-looking fellow, with 
a kindness of manner that touched us, remarked to 
her, " Poor little thing ; 'tis better off where 'tis." I 
undeceived him in his idea as to this supposed rela- 
tionship of the child, and informed him that it was 
not a child, but our mother, for whom we mourned. 
My mother's coffin was then taken out and placed 
in a trench,. and a little dirt was thinly sprinkled 
over it. 

So was she buried ! without a shroud ; her shoes 
on her feet. One of God's creatures — an affection- 
ate wife, a devoted mother, a faithful friend, and a 
poor Christian ; that's all ! So there was no burial 
service read; into that trench 'she was thrown with- 
out a prayer; and that was the end, after a long life 



76 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

of faithful work for others — a life of patient struggle, 
fighting nobly, lovingly, and hopefully the battle of 
life. This was the end. No, no, thank God ! no, not 
the end. Her worn body rests in hope, and he who 
wept at the grave of Lazarus, watches the sleeping 
dust of his servant. Yes, life and immortality are 
brought to light through the gospel. My poor mother 
sleeps as sweetly as if entombed in a marble sar- 
cophagus; and, thank God, she will rise as gloriously 
when " He who became the first fruits of them that 
slept," shall call his humble disciple to come and "be 
forever with the Lord." 

From that great Golgotha we went forth together, 
and, nnheeded by the bustling crowd, proceeded sadly 
to our now desolate chamber, where we sat down 
and gazed vacantly around the deserted room. One 
by one, the old familiar objects attracted our notice. 
Among other articles, a little saucepan remained on 
the extinguished embers in the grate, with rice and 
milk burned to its bottom! This was what my 
mother was preparing for me, against my return from 
bathing; and the sight renewed my remembrances of 
her care, which it so happened was exercised for me 
in her latest moments. I afterwards was informed 
that she was found dead on the floor, by a young man 
who passed our room door, on the way to his own, 
and saw her lying there. She seemed to have been 
engaged in splitting a piece of pine wood with a knife, 
and it is supposed that, whilst stooping over it and 
forcing down the knife, she was seized with apoplexy, 
and immediately expired. 

Whilst we were sadly contemplating our situation 
and circumstances, and calling to mind many sayings 



AUTOBIOGEAPHT OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 



77 



and doings of our dear mother, I began to think about 
our future course, and said to my sister: — 

"Now, Mary, what shall we do?" 

She remarked something, I forget what; and I, in 
turn, made an observation to the effect — as well as I 
can remember — that we could take all our furniture 
on our backs; when we, both of us, broke out into a 
violent fit of laughter, which lasted for several min- 
utes; and I never, either before or since, remember 
to have been more unable to control myself It 
was a strange thing to hear that hitherto silent cham- 
ber — in which for hours, we had scarcely spoken above 
a whisper — echoing such unaccustomed sounds. But 
so it was; and I am unable to explain why, unless it 
be on the principle of reaction. And yet it was not 
the laugh of joy; but more like the fearfully hysteri- 
cal mirth of saddened hearts, in which, for the time, 
all the feelings of youth had been imprisoned, but by 
one wild effort had broken forth, shouting with natu- 
ral but unbidden glee. 

On that Wednesday night, I could not bear to re- 
main in the house ; so I sauntered out, and passed the 
long hours of darkness in the streets, — to lie down I 
felt was impossible, so great was my weight of woe. 
The next day I passed wearily enough, and at night I 
obtained a little sleep ; but from the afternoon of my 
mother's death, not a morsel of food had passed my 
lips. I loathed food ; and it was not until the follow- 
ing Friday evening that I was persuaded to take any. 
Every thing about us, so forcibly and painfully re- 
minded us of her we had lost, that my sister and my- 
self determined to remove from our lodgings; and, 
having disposed of our feather-bed, and a few little 



78 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHIS" B. GOUGII. 

matters, to the woman of the house, we paid a week's 
board in advance at a house in Spring Street. I now 
began to feel the effects of my night watchings and 
neglect of food, and was taken so sick, that a city 
physician attended me for three or four days. As 
soon as I recovered, I inquired for my old and kind 
friends, the Egberts. They were in the city, and I 
proceeded to their house, in Suffolk Street, where I 
was received cordially, and kindly nursed, with all the 
care of a mother and sister, during the weak time 
which followed my indisposition. My sister and I had 
separated, as she boarded where she worked, in the 
upper part of the city. 

As soon as I had sufficiently recovered, I scraped 
together what money I could, and went on a visit to 
the family with whom I left England. With them I 
remained two months, and received many condolences 
on the subject of my mother's death, and my lonely 
situation; but after, and, indeed, during this time, I 
could not help feeling that my absence would not be 
regretted, so I made preparations for quitting them. 
Whilst in the country, I spent a few days with Mr. 
Elijah Hunt, who, together with Mrs. Hunt, w^ere 
very kind to me. As my wearing apparel was get- 
ting shabby, Mr. Hunt, in the kindest manner, pro- 
vided me with a twent^^-five dollar suit, trusting to 
my honor for repayment, when it lay in my power. 
Never shall I forget the kindness of him and his fam- 
ily to me at that time. I started for New York about 
September, and there went to work for Mr. John 
Gladding, who always behaved kindly towards me. 

The effect on my mind of the experiences I had 
passed through, was to produce a bitterness of spirit, 



ATJTOBIOGRAPHT OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 



79 



: 



hardly to be described or understood. It became in 
ine so fierce that I must have wounded the feeUngs 
of others, often, by the contempt with which I would 
speak of funerals and mourners. Tolling of bells, 
and all ceremonies attending the dead, were to me, 
subjects of ridicule, I seemed to lose sympathy with 
my fellow-men. My mother was a good woman, but 
there was no burial service read over her. I then 
declared, that I would never wear a bit of crape, for 
the loss of any human being ; and the declaration 
I then made, holds good to-day. This terrible experi- 
ence produced an effect on me that was never eradi- 
cated — though much modified — till the visit to my 
native village, in 1854, where my mother's memory 
is tenderly cherished, by so many who knew her 
worth, and where she left the fragrance of a good 
name, that is fresh to-day. 

I boarded in Grand Street at this time, and soon 
after laid the foundation of many of my future sor- 
rows. I possessed a tolerably good voice, and sang 
pretty well, having also the faculty of imitation 
rather strongly developed; and, being well stocked 
with amusing stories, I was introduced into the society 
of thoughtless and dissipated young men, to whom 
my talents made me welcome. These companions 
were what is termed respectable, but they drank. I 
now began to attend the theaters frequently, and felt 
ambitious of strutting my hour upon the stage. By 
slow but sure degrees I forgot the lessons of wisdom 
which my mother had taught me, lost all relish for 
the great truths of religion, neglected my devotions, 
and considered an actor's situation to be the " nc jjIks 
ultra" of greatness. 



80 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

I well remember, in my early days, having enter- 
tained, through the influence of my mother, a horror 
of theaters; and once, as I walked up the Bowery, 
and watched the multitudes passing to and fro on the 
steps of the play-house there, — which I had mounted 
for the sake of a better view of the busy scene, — this 
passage of Scripture came to my recollection: '^The 
glory of the Lord shall cover the face of the earth as 
the waters cover the sea;" and I mentally offered up 
a prayer, that that time might speedily arrive. Not 
very long afterwards, — so low had I fallen, and so des- 
perately had I back-slidden, — that at the very door of 
that same theater, which I had, five years before, 
wished destroyed, as a temple of sin, I stood applying 
for a situation as actor and comic singer! No longer 
did I wish a church should be built on the site of the 
theater; that very place of entertainment had become 
at first a chosen, and now, to support excitement, an 
almost necessary place of resort. 

I did not enter the theater at this time, having 
failed in my endeavor to procure such a situation ; 
but I soon afterwards sung a comic song, entitled, 
'^The Water Party," at the Franklin Theater, in Chat- 
ham street, where William Sefton was stage manager, 
and where John Sefton made such a hit in the role 
of Jemmy Twitcher, in the drama of the Golden 
Farmer. I assumed the name of Gilbert, and was 
encored, so that I was encouraged to pursue the pro- 
fession of an actor. But I did not at that time. 

During this period, I worked pretty steadily at my 
business ; but such were my growing habits of dissi- 
pation, that, although receiving ^Ye dollars a week, I 
squandered every cent, and was continually in debt. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHiN" B. GOUGH. 81 

Mj proceedings, too, became characterized by a hith- 
erto unfelt recklessness. One morning a young man 
came to me, and informed me that a great fire had 
broken out down the street. (1 had belonged to a 
volunteer fire-engine company, and also to a dramatic 
society, which held its meetings at the corner of 
Anthony Street and Broadway, and which had greatly 
tended to increase my habits of irregularity.) I passed 
by the information lightly and selfishly, saying: "Let 
it burn on, it wont hurt me." When I had finished 
my breakfast, some one informed me the fire was in 
the neighborhood of the shop where I worked. This 
alarmed me 5 and I proceeded toward my place of 
business, where I arrived just in time to see the 
flames bursting through the workshop windows. By 
this disaster, although I had so little anticipated it, I 
lost what I could ill afibrd, — an overcoat and some 
books; and, worse than this, I was thrown out of 
employment; so that I was injured by the fire, 
which I had so confidently thought "could not 
hurt me." 

Mr. Gladding, after the fire, determining to remove 
to Bristol, Ehode Island, and set up in business there, 
invited me to accompany him. I therefore left New 
York, and remained in his employ for about a year, 
during which time nothing of importance transpired. 
In February or March, 1837, however, Mr. Gladding 
failed, and as I was again obliged to seek for occupa- 
tion, I proceeded to Providence, and there continued 
my drinking habits. I succeeded in procuring work 
at Mr. Brown's, in Market Row, and experienced much 
kindness at his hands. Here I mio-ht, and ouu'ht to 
have done well, but for my unfortunate habits oi dis- 



82 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF J0H:N' B. GOUGH. 

sipation, which gradually increased, and which were 
every day treasuring up misery for me. 

It happened that, at this time, a company of actors 
were performing at Providence. I became acquainted 
with them, and being strongly advised by them to 
make an essay on the stage, I acceded to their wishes, 
and followed my own inclinations with respect to the 
matter. It could not be expected that, connected 
with the stage, I could follow steadily a more sober 
occupation. Nor did I: for I worked only at uncer- 
tain intervals, frequently was absent for days together, 
and, as a necessary consequence, incurred the dis- 
pleasure of my employer, who soon after discharged 
me from his shop, on the ground of inattention to my 
business, although I was acknowledged by him to be 
an excellent workman. I now entirely gave myself 
up to the stage, and gained some reputation for the 
manner in which I performed a low line of characters. 
Brilliant, however, as I thought my prospects to be, 
I was doomed to disappointment: for, before long, 
the theater came to a close, and I, in common with 
the other members of the company, failed to receive 
remuneration for my services. 

Thus was I again thrown on my own resources, 
and, with a tarnished reputation, my situation was 
far worse than it had hitherto been. I tried to ob- 
tain employment, but failed; and, although I wished 
to get out of the town, I was unable to do so from 
want of funds. My clothes had grown shabby, 
and I was guiltless of wearing more than one suit. 
Worse than this, my appetite for strong drink was in- 
creasing, and becoming a confirmed habit — the effect 
of almost unlimited indulorence. I was now reduced 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHJT B. GOUGH. 



83 



to absolute want. My boarding-house account had 
assumed an unpleasant aspect^ and, more than once, 
had I received threatening notices to quit. One night 
I was reduced to extremities, and so poorly was I ofK^ 
that I was compelled to wander about the streets, 
from night until almost morning, in order to keep my- 
self warm. In pure desperation, I repaired to one 
of the very lowest class of hotels, where I obtained a 
miserable lodging. It happened, at this time, that a 
person visited Providence, who wanted to engage 
some performers for a theater which was to open, for 
a short season, in Boston. To this person, whose name 
was Barry (and who afterwards was lost, with his 
whole stock company, whilst going to Texas), I w^as 
introduced; and he was, at the same time, informed 
of my necessity. Mr. Barry, with a kindness which 
was well meant, said he would take me to Boston with 
him, on his own responsibility, and use his influence 
in my behalf I left Providence, on a Sunday morn- 
ing, and succeeded in getting an engagement in Bos- 
ton, at the Lion Theater, where I performed gener- 
ally, low comedy parts. 

Strangely enough, my first appearance in Boston 
was in the character of the keeper of a temperance 
house, in the play of "Departed Spirits, or the Tem- 
perance Hoax," arranged by Barrymore, in which 
Deacon Moses Grant, Dr. Lyman Beecher, and other 
prominent temperance men, were held up to ridicule. 
One scene in this play, was a fire in the hotel. I 
was called up at night by some travelers, and, holding 
a colloquy with them from the window, with a candle 
in my hand, set fire to the curtains; a man belihul 
me, was ready with some "red fire/' as the curtains 



84 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

blaze dj — being wet with spirits of turpentine, — to set 
fire to the combustible behind me ; and the principal 
fun of the scene was, when the engine was brought 
in, with ^^ real water/' — so the play-bills announced, as 
a special feature, — and I got out of the window to be 
drenched to the skin, by the water from the engine. 
It was rare fun to the audience, and others, but no 
fun to me, I assure you; but then, I was engaged at 
a salary of five dollars per week, — which I never 
received, for the theater closed in a few weeks, and, 
deprived of my pay, I was once more thrown like 
a foot-ball on the world's highway, at the mercy of 
every passing foot. 

My appearance was now shabby enough. All my 
little stock of money was spent as fast as I received 
it; and, once more, I was absolutely in want. Like 
many others, similarly circumstanced, I experienced, 
in my adversity, kindness from woman. Mrs. Fox, 
with whom I boarded, was quite aware of my desti- 
tute situation, and benevolently afforded me a home 
and subsistence until I could once more obtain work. 
This I at last did, at Mr. Benjamin Bradley's; and in 
his employ I continued until the month of January, 
1838, when I was discharged. The reason assigned 
by Mr. Bradley, for my dismissal, was what might 
have been expected from a knowledge of my habits. 
He said I was too shabby in appearance for a shop, 
and it was his opinion, as well as that of others, that 
I drank too much. I had paid my board at Mrs. 
Fox's up to that time, but was now again without a 
cent, and was in the depths of trouble, until I acci- 
dentally heard that a person at Newburyport was in 
want of a binder, to whom he was willing to give six 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 



85 



dollars a week wages. Small as was this remunera- 
tion, I need scarcely say that I eagerly accepted the 
offered salary, and traveling, partly by stage and 
partly by cars, entered Newburyport late in the even- 
ing of the 30th of January. The next morning I 
commenced work in my new situation , and, for a few 
weeks, by a desperate effort, I managed to keep free 
from the intoxicating cup. I was now comparatively 
steady, and gave satisfaction to my employer; but 
this state of things, unhappily, did not last long, for 
I had a longing for society, and, I regret to say, soon 
formed an acquaintance with companions who were 
calculated to destroy any resolutions of amendment 
which I had formed. I joined a fire-engine company, 
and, before long, I was again on the high-road of dis- 
sipation, — neglecting my business, destroying my 
reputation, — w^hich was already damaged, — and injur- 
ing my health. 

Work grew slack towards the July of that year, 
and, as I could not earn sufficient to support myself 
at my trade, I embraced another occupation, and 
entered into an arrangement with the cajDtain of a 
fishing-boat, to go a voyage with him down Chaleur 
Bay. My sea experiences were somewhat severe, as 
will presently be seen; but as there was no rum on 
board, I was forced to keep sober, and that at least, 
saved me a Qonsiderable amount of suffering. When, 
however, I went on shore, I made up for my forced 
abstinence by pottle-deep potations, and my visit to 
another vessel was generally accompanied by a ca- 
rousal, if rum was by any means to be obtained. In 
consequence of what is commonly called a "spree," my 
life was, at one time, placed in considerable jeopardy. 
6 



86 AUTOBIOaRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

Several of our crew, with myself, liad been on board 
a neighboring vessel; and, on our return at night,! 
was, as might be expected, intoxicated. The boat 
was rowed to the side of our craft, and I was so much 
under the influence of drink, that, unnoticed, 1 lay at 
the bottom of the boat. As customary, when the 
rest of the crew got on board, the hook was fastened 
in the bow of the boat, which was drawn up. In con- 
sequence of this, as the bow was hoisted with a jerk, 
I was flung violently, from where I was lying, to the 
stern, and the force of the blow effectually awakened 
me. I called out, and alarmed my companions, just 
in time to prevent being thrown overboard, and was 
soon rescued from my perilous position. It seemed 
that they had not noticed me in the boat when they 
left it, and supposed, in tlie dark scramble, I had got 
safely on board. So was my life again saved by an 
all-wise Providence ; but I was so closely wrapped in 
my garb of thoughtlessness, that I passed by the mat- 
ter with little thought or thankfulness. 

And yet, at this time, I did not consider myself to be 
— what, in reality, I was — a drunkard. Well enough 
did I know, from bitter experience, that character, sit- 
uations, and health, had been perilled, in consequence 
of my love of ardent spirits. I felt, too, an aching 
void in my breast, and conscience frequently told me 
that I was on the broad road to ruin ; but that I was 
what all men despised, — and I among them, detested, 
— I could not bring myself to believe. I would frame 
many excuses for myself — plead my own cause before 
myself, as judge and jury, until I obtained, at my own 
hands, a willing acquittal. ! how little does the 
young man dream that he is deceiving himself, though 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 87 

not others, whilst pursuing so fatal a course as was 
mine. He abhors the name of "drunkard," whilst 
no other word so aptly and accurately defines his 
position. 

The purpose of our voyage having been answered, 
we prepared for our homeward sail, and were making 
for port when a violent storm burst over us. It was 
a south-easter ; and in our perilous position off Cape 
Sable, none of us expected to weather it. For hours 
we feared we should go to the bottom, and scarce a 
hope remained to cheer us, — the captain having given 
up everything for lost. We could discern the sea 
breaking violently over the Brazil rock, four miles and 
a half from us, and we were rapidly drifting to the 
coast; but in that dreadful season, strange to tell, I 
suffered but very little, if anything, from alarm or 
anxiety. What to attribute this feeling — or rather 
absence of feeling — to, I know not ; but so it was, that, 
owing to callousness or some other cause, I felt not 
the slightest fear, although some old "salts" were 
dreadfully anxious. I sat as calmly as I remember 
ever to have done in my life, whilst wave after wave 
dashed over the frail vessel, making every timber 
creak, and her whole frame to quiver, as if with mortal 
agony. By the mercy of God, however, the wind 
shifted to the westward, and by means of the only 
rag of a sail which remained to us, we managed to 
crawl off. 

This was a fearful storm. Wrecks strewed the 
coast; a vessel went down with all on board, but a 
short distance from us; and the schooner that started 
in company with us from the Bay, went on shore, 
and every man perished. 



88 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHI!^ B. GOUGH. 

Next morning at daylight we went toward land, 
and about noon, anchored in Sherburne Bay, Nova 
Scotia, where we remained long enough to replace a 
lost sail, and repair our damaged vessel. One scene 
on board during the storm, was such a combination 
of the ludicrous and the profane, with ignorance, 
wickedness, and superstition, that I may be pardoned 
for relating it. We had a man on board so notori- 
ously wicked^ that we called him the Algerine. His 
profanity was frightful. Utterly ignorant, all he 
knew of prayer or Scripture, was the first verse of 
the first chapter of Genesis, and the first clause of the 
Lord's Prayer. During fair weather, he was a great 
braggart and bully; when the gale so increased that 
we were really in danger, he began to show signs of 
fear; and soon we heard him muttering, "In the be- 
ginning God created the heavens and the earth — Oh 
— Oh — Our Father shart in heaven — Oh — we're go- 
ing down — d the luck — Oh — Oh-h — In the be- 
ginning — Oh — murder — d the luck—Our Father 

shart in heaven." When the jib blew away, he was 
ordered by the captain to go out with another man 
on the bowsprit. "No — I wont — Our Father shart 

in heaven — No — I wont — d d if I do," — and there 

lay poor Jake prone on the deck. " Get up, you lub- 
ber," said the captain. " Our Father shart in heaven," 
said Jake. "You need to be started with a rope's 
end," said the captain. "In the beginning God cre- 
ated the heavens and the earth," — "You fool! get 
up 1 you'll be washed overboard," said the captain. 
"Oh — Oh — Our Father shart in heaven," said Jake, 
as he crawled to one of the rings of the hatchway, 
and clung to it with both hands. Poor Jake I I 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 89 

think I see him now, as, in spite of the tremendous 
sea and our personal danger, we could but laugh. 
Utterly powerless with terror, all we could get from 
him was, "In the beginning," or "Our Father shart in 
heaven," — with an occasional " d the luck," inter- 
spersed with the most dismal Oh's and groans. And 
so it was till the storm abated. When we were safe 
in Sherburne Harbor, seated at the table with coffee 
and doughnuts, one of the men said, "Jake, what 
was that about your father?" another, "Jake, tell us 
what was it in the beginning?" and the chaffing com- 
menced, and continued, till he was almost beside him- 
self with rage, and so threatened us, that we thought 
it advisable to leave him alone; but the slightest 
allusion to Jake's "father," or "the beginning," was 
sufficient to put him in a fury of passion ever after- 
wards. 

We soon set sail, and I arrived at Newburyport on 
the first Sunday in November, glad enough to be 
freed from my imprisonment for three and a half 
months, in a small vessel of fifty tons burden. 

Once more on land, I engaged to work at my own 
business, and did so for some time with Mr. Tilton. 
Not long afterwards I entered into the matrimonial 
state, and commenced housekeeping, having earned 
money sufficient by my fishing voyage to purchase 
some neat furniture. In my new condition I might 
have done well, for I had every prospect of success, 
had it not been for my craving after society, which, 
in spite of having a home of my own, I still felt. 
Alas ! forgetful of a husband's home duties, I again 
became involved in a dissipated social net-work, whose 
fatal meshes too surely entangled me, and unfitted 



90 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

me for that active exertion which was now rendered 
doubly necessary. I continued at my work until 
the month of June, when, business becoming slack, 
I again went on a fishing excursion, with my wife's 
brother, the captain of the boat, into the Bay of 
Fundy. We were away this* time for only six weeks, 
and returned in safety, without having encountered 
anything worthy of note. 



It 



CHAPTER VI 

Continued Eesidence in Newburyport — Increasing Dissipation — Fall- 
ing off of Companions — Attempt at Work — Growing Reckless- 
ness — Trip to Lynn, Haverhill, and Amesbury — Concert — Return 
Home — Fearful Scenes — Sickness — Delirium — Recovery — Leave 
Newburyport — Diorama — Return to Worcester — Employment. 

During my residence at Newburyport^ my early 
serious impressions on one occasion in a measure re- 
vived, and I felt some stingings of conscience for my 
neglect of the Sabbath, and religious observances. 
I re-commenced attending a place of worship, and for 
a short time I attended the Rev. Mr. Campbell's 
church, by whom, as well as by several of his mem- 
bers, I was treated with much Christian kindness. I 
was often invited to Mr. Campbell's house, as well as 
to the houses of some of his hearers, and it seemed 
as if a favorable turning-point or crisis in my fortunes 
had arrived. Mr. Campbell was good enough to man- 
ifest a very great interest in my welfare, and fre- 
quently expressed a hope that I should be enabled, 
although late in life, to obtain an education. And 
this I might have acquired, had not my evil genius 
prevented my making any efforts to obtain so desira- 
ble an end. My desire for strong liquors and com- 
pany seemed to present an insuperable barrier to all 
improvement; and after a few weeks every aspiration 
after better things had ceased; every bud of promised 
comfort was crushed. Again I grieved the Spirit 



92 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

that had been striving with my spirit, and ere long 
became even more addicted to the use of the infernal 
draughts, which had already wrought me so much woe, 
than at any previous period of my existence. 

And now my circumstances began to be desperate 
indeed. In vain were all my efforts to obtain work, 
and at last I became so reduced, that at times I did 
not know, when one meal was ended, where on the 
face of the broad earth, I should find another. Further 
mortification awaited me, and by slow degrees, I be- 
came aware of it. The young men with whom I had 
associated, in bar-rooms and parlors, and who wore a 
little better clothing than I could afford, one after 
another began to drop my acquaintance. If I walked 
in the public streets, I too quickly perceived the cold 
look, the averted eye, the half recognition, and to a 
sensitive spirit, such as I possessed, such treatment 
was almost past endurance. To add to the mortifica- 
tion caused by such a state of things, it happened 
that those who had laughed the loudest at my songs 
and stories, and who had been social enough with me 
in the bar-room, were the very individuals who seemed 
most ashamed of my acquaintance. I felt that I was 
shunned by the respectable portion of the community 
also ; and once, on asking a lad to accompany me in a 
walk, he informed me that his father had cautioned 
him against associating with me. This was a cutting 
reproof, and I felt it more deeply than words can ex- 
press. And could I wonder at it? No. Although I 
may have used bitter words against that parent, my 
conscience told me that he had done no more than 
his duty, in preventing his son being influenced by 
my dissipated habits. Oh ! how often have I laid down 



11' 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 93 

and bitterly remembered many who had hailed my 
arrival in their company as a joyous event. Their 
plaudits would resound in my ears, and peals of 
laughter ring again in my deserted chamber; then 
would succeed stillness, only broken by the beatings 
of my agonized heart, which felt that the gloss of re- 
spectability had worn off, and exposed my threadbare 
condition. To drown these reflections, I would drink, 
not from love of the taste of the liquor, but to be- 
come so stupefied by its fumes as to steep my sorrows 
in a half oblivion ; and from this miserable stupor, I 
would wake to a fuller consciousness of my situation, 
and again would I banish my reflections by liquor. 

There lived in Newburyport at that time a Mr. 
Low, who was a rum-seller, and I had spent many a 
shilling at his bar; he proposed to me that he would 
purchase some tools, and I could start a bindery on 
my own account, paying him by installments. He 
did so; and I thought it an act of great kindness then, |l 

and for some time afterwards, till I found he had re- I 

ceived pay from me for tools he had never paid for f 

himself, and I was dunned for the account he had \ 

failed to settle. He even borrowed seventy-five dol- 
lars from me after I signed the pledge, which has 
never been repaid. "Such is life." i 

Despite all that had occurred, my good name was 
not so far gone but that I might have succeeded, ; 

by the aid of common industry and attention, in my \ 

business. I was a good workman, and found no difii- i 

culty in procuring employment, and, I have not the 
slightest doubt, should have succeeded in my endeav- j 

ors to get on in the world, but for my unhappy love J 

of stimulating drinks, and my craving for society. I 



94 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHX B. GOUGH. 

was now my own master; all restraint was removed, 
and, as might be expected, I did as I pleased in my 
own shop. I became careless, was often in the bar- 
room when I should have been at mv binderv. and 
instead of spending my evenings at home, in reading 
or conversation, they were almost invariably passed 
in the company of the rum bottle, which became al- 
most mv sole household deitA'. Five months onlv 
did I remain in business, and. during: that short 
period, I gradually sunk deeper and deeper in the 
scale of deoTadation. I was now the slave of a habit 
which had become completely my master, and which 
fastened its remorseless fano^s in mv verv vitals. 
Thous'ht was a torturing; thiuo:. "When I looked 

~ CO 

back, memory drew fearful pictures, in lines of lurid 
flame; and, whenever I dared anticipate the future, 
hope refused to illumine my onward path. I dwelt 
in one awful present: nothing to solace me, — nothing 
to beckon me onwards to a better state. 

I knew full well that I was proceeding on a down- 
ward course, and crossing: the sea of time, as it were, 
on a bridge perilous as that over which Mahomet's 
followers are said to enter j)aradise. A terrible feel- 
ing was ever present that some evU was impending, 
which would soon fall on my devoted head; and I 
would shudder, as if the sword of Damocles, sus- 
pended by its shigle hair, was about to fall and 
utterly destroy me. 

"Warning's were not wanting;: but thev had no voice 
of terror for me. I was intimately acquainted with 
a vouno; man in the town, and well remember his 
coming to my shop one morning, and asking the loan 
of ninepence, with which to buy rum. I let hhn 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHiq- B. GOUGH. 95 

have the money, and the spirit was soon consumed. 
He begged me to lend him a second ninepence, but I 
refused; yet, during my temporary absence, he drank 
some spirit of wine, which was in a bottle in the shop, 
and used by me in my business. He went away, and 
the next I heard of him, was, that he had died 
shortly afterwards. Such an awful circumstance as 
this might w^ell have impressed me; but habitual in- 
dulgence had almost rendered me proof against salu- 
tary impressions. I was, to tell the truth, at this 
time, deeper in degradation than at any period be- 
fore, which I can remember. 

My custom now was to purchase my brandy— which, 
in consequence of my limited means, was of the very 
worst description — and keep it at the shop, where, by 
little and little, I drank it, and continually kept my- 
self in a state of excitement. This course of pro- 
ceeding entirely unfitted me for business, and it not 
unfrequently happened, when I had books to bind, 
that I would, instead of attending to business, keep 
my customers waiting, whilst in the company of dis- 
solute companions. I drank during the whole day, to 
the complete ruin of my prospects in life. So en- 
tirely did I give myself up to the bottle, that those 
of my companions who fancied they still possessed 
some claims to respectability, gradually withdrew 
from my company. At my house, too, I used to keep 
a bottle of gin, which was in constant requisition. 
Indeed, go where I would, stimulant I must and did 
have. Such a slave w^as I to the bottle, that I re- 
sorted to it continually, and in vain was every ellbrt 
which I occasionally made, to conquer the debasing 
habit. I had become a flxthcr; but God in his mercy 



96 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

removed my little one at so early an age, that I did 
not feel the loss as much as if it had lived longer, to 
engage my affections. 

A circumstance now transpired which attracted my 
attention, and led me to consider my situation, and 
whither I was hurrying. A lecture was advertised 
to be delivered by the first reformed drunkard, Mr. 
J. J. Johnson, who visited Newburyport, and I was 
invited by some friends who seemed to feel an inter- 
est, to attend and hear what he had to say. I de- 
termined after some consideration to go and hear 
what was to be said on the subject. The meeting 
was held in the Eev. Mr. Campbell's church, which 
was pretty well crowded. I went to the door, but 
would go no farther; but in the ten minutes I stood 
there, I heard the speaker, in graphic and forcible 
terms, depict the misery of the drunkard, and the 
awful consequences of his conduct, both as they af- 
fected himself and those connected with him. My 
conscience told me that he spoke the truth, — for what 
had I not suffered ! I knew he was right, and I 
turned to leave the church, when a young man offered 
me the pledge to sign. I actually turned to sign it; 
but at that critical moment, the appetite for strong 
drink, as if determined to have the mastery over me, 
came in all its force. Oh! how I wanted it; and, re- 
membering that I had a pint of brandy at home, I 
deferred signing, and put off to "a more convenient 
season," a proceeding that might have saved me so 
much after sorrow. I, however, compromised the mat- 
ter with my conscience, by inwardly resolving that I 
would drink up what spirit I had by me, and then thinh 
of leaving off the use of the accursed liquid altogether. 



AUTOBIOGEAPHT OF JOHN B. GOUGn. 97 

"Think of it!" 0! had I then acted, what misery 
would have been spared me in after days. One would 
have imagined that I had had my fill of misery^ and 
been glad to have hailed and grasped any saving 
hand which might be held out. But no ; such was the 
dominion which rum had over me^ that I was led cap- 
tive by it, as at will. It had impaired every energy, 
and almost destroyed the desire to be better than I 
was. I was debased in my own eyes, and, having lost 
my self-respect, became a poor, abject being, scarcely 
worth attempting to reform. 

Did I think of it ? 0, no. I forgot the impressions 
made upon me by the speaker at the meeting I have 
alluded to. Still, I madly drained the inebriating 
cup, and speedily my state was worse than ever. 0, 
no. I soon ceased to think about it, for my master 
passion, like Aaron's rod, swallowed up every thought 
and feeling opposed to it, which I possessed. 

My business grew gradually worse, and at length 
my constitution became so impaired, that even when 
I had the will, I did not possess the power to provide 
for my daily wants. My hands would, at times, trem- 
ble so that I could not perform the finer operations 
of my business, — the finishing and gilding. How 
could I letter straight, with a hand burning and 
shaking from the effects of a debauch? Sometimes, 
when it was absolutely necessary to finish ofi' some 
work, I have entered the shop with a stern determi- 
nation not to drink a single drop until I completed it. 
I have bitterly felt that my failing was a matter 
of common conversation in the town, and a burning 
sense of shame would flush my fevered brow, at the 
conviction that I was scorned by the respectable per- 



98 AtJTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

tion of the community. But these feelings passed 
away like the morning cloud or early dew, and I pur- 
sued my old course. 

About this time I received a letter from the pro- 
prietor of a hotel and hall in Lynn, inviting me to 
come there, and give a couple of entertainments in 
his hall; he to take the proceeds of the first, I to 
receive the second. I went, and returned with about 
three dollars, as the result. Afterwards I went to 
Lowell, Haverhill, and Amesbury, in company with 
Stanwood and Warren. I give, as a curiosity, a copy 
of an old handbill in my possession : — 

CONCERT 

AT AMESBURY. 

Mr. M. Gr. Stanwood and Mr. C. Warren respectfully inform the 
ladies and gentlemen of Amesbury, that they will give a Concert, at 
Franklin Hall, i^ This Evening, March 22d, for the purpose of 
introducing the 

ACCORDION 

into use, — as it is thought by many to be an instrument that cannot 
be performed on. The performance will consist of some of the most 
popular music from the latest Operas. 



MR. JOHN B. GOUGH, 

The celebrated singer from the New York* and Boston Theaters, will 
also appear in his most popular songs. 



PROGRAMME. 

PART I. 
Hail Columbia. 
Yankee Doodle. 

Song — Wedlock, Gough. 

Sweet Home. 

* I had sung but one song in a New York theater, but this was inserted for 
effect. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. OOUGH. 99 

Hunter's Chorus. 

Song — Water Party, ' Gough. 

Kinloch of Kinloch. 
Swiss Waltz. 

Recitation — Sailor Boy's Dream, Gough. 

Oft in the Stilly Night. 

March in " Masaniello." * . 

Song — Apollo Glee Club, • . . Gough. 

Away with Melancholy — with variations. 
Winding Way. 

PART II. 

Stanz Waltz. 
Wood-up. 

Recitation — Alonzo and Imogene, Gough. 

Bayadere Quickstep. 
Trumpet Quickstep. 

Song — Bashful Man, Gough. 

Somnambula Quickstep. 

Fisher's Hornpipe. 

Dialogue — Between a Yankee, Dutchman, Frenchman, and Irishman, 

on the subject of eatables and speakables, Gough. 

Cinderella Waltz. 
Brass Band Quickstep. 

Song — Bartholomew Fair, Gough. 

Hull Street Guards Quickstep. 
Copenhagen Waltz — with variations. 

^:^=" Ticket| 25 cents; Children, half price. To be obtained at the door. 
*^* Doors open at 7 — performance to commence at -J past 7 o'clock. 

Though we gave the audience a good bill of fare 
for their money, and did our best, I was very little, 
if at all, benefited financially, and returned to the 
old wretched way of life. To what shifts was I 
reduced, to conceal my habit of using intoxicating 
drinks ! 

Frequently have I taken a pitcher, with a pint of 
new rum in it, purchased at some obscure groggery, 
and put about one-third as much water as there was 
spirit in it, at the town pump, in Market Square, in 
order to induce persons to think that I drank water 
alone. This mixture I would take to my sliop, and, 



100 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

for days and days together^ it would be my only 
beverage. In consequence of this habit, I would 
frequently fall asleep, or, if awake, be in so half tor- 
pid a state, that work or exertion of any kind was 
quite out of the question; and my days dragged 
wearily on. At times I almost wished that my life, 
and its miseries, would close. 

The reader will remember that I have before re- 
ferred to my sister. She had been for some time 
married, and was then residing at Providence, R. I. 
One day I received a letter from her, in which she 
stated that she was severely afflicted with salt rheum, 
and requested that my wife would visit her, for the 
purpose of nursing her and her infant. My wife 
decided on going. I accompanied her to the cars, 
and then returned home. It was the first time since 
our marriage that we had ever been separated, and 
the house to me looked lonely and desolate. I 
thought I would not go to work, and a great induce- 
ment to remain at home, existed in the shape of my 
enemj'. — West India rum, — of which I had a quantity 
in the house. Although the morning was by no 
means far advanced, I sat down, intending to do noth- 
ing until dinner-time. I could not sit alone without 
rum, and I drank glass after glass, until I became so 
stupefied that I was compelled to lie down on the 
bed, where I soon fell asleep. When I awoke, it was 
late in the afternoon, and then, as I persuaded my- 
self, too late to make a bad day's work good. I in- 
vited a neighbor, who, like myself, was a man of 
intemperate habits, to spend the evening with me. 
He came, and we sat down to our rum, and drank 
freely together until late that night, when he stag- 



} 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 101 

gered home, and so intoxicated was I, that in moving 
to go to bed, I fell over the table, broke a lamp, and 
lay on the floor for some time, unable to rise. At 
last I managed to get to bed; but 0! I did not sleep, 
only dozed at intervals, for the drunkard never knows 
the blessings of undisturbed repose. I awoke in the 
night with a raging thirst. My mouth was parched, 
and my throat was burning; and I anxiously groped 
about the room, trying to find more rum, in which I 
sought to quench my dreadful thirst. No sooner was 
one draught taken, than the horrible dry feeling re- 
turned; and so I went on, swallowing repeated glass- 
fuls of the spirit, until at last I had drained the very 
last drop which the jug contained. My appetite grew 
by what it fed on; and, having a little money by me, 
I with difficulty got up, made myself look as tidy as 
possible, and then went out to buy more rum, with 
which I returned to the house. 

The fact will, perhaps, seem incredible, but so it 
was, that I drank spirits continually, without tasting 
a morsel of food, for the next three days. This could 
not last long; a constitution of iron strength could 
not endure such treatment, and mine was partially 
broken down by previous dissipation. 

I began to experience a feeling hitherto unknown 
to me. After the three days' drinking, to which I have 
just referred, I felt, one night, as I lay on my bed, an 
awful sense of something dreadful coming upon me. 
It was as if I had been partially stunned, and now, in 
an interval of consciousness, was about to have the 
fearful blow, which had prostrated me, repeated. 
There was a craving for sleep, sleep, blessed sleep ! 
but my eyelids were as if they could not close. Ev- 
7 



102 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHI^ B. GOUGH. 

erj object around me I beheld with startling distinct- 
ness, and my hearing became unnaturally acute. 
Then, to the ringing and roaring in my ears, would 
suddenly succeed a silence, so awful, that only the 
stillness of the grave might be compared with it. 

At other times, strange voices would whisper unin- 
telligible words, and the slightest noise would make 
me start, like a guilty thing. But the horrible, burn- 
ing thirst was insupportable, and, to quench it, and 
induce sleep, I clutched again and again, the rum 
bottle, — hugged my enemy, — and poured the infernal 
fluid down my parched throat. But it was of no use 
— none. I could not sleep. Then I bethought me 
of tobacco; and, staggering from my bed to a shelf 
near, with great difficulty, I managed to procure a 
pipe and some matches. I could not stand to light 
the latter, so I lay again on the bed, and scraped one 
on the wall. I began to smoke, and the narcotic leaf 
produced a stupefaction. I dozed a little, but, feeling 
a warmth on my face, T awoke, and discovered my 
pillow to be on fire ! I had dropped a lighted match 
on the bed. By a desperate effort, I threw the pillow 
on the floor, and, too exhausted to feel annoyed by 
the burning feathers, I sank again into a state of som- 
nolency. 

How long I lay, I do not exactly know; but I 
was roused from my lethargy by the neighbors, who, 
alarmed by a smell of fire, came to my room to as- 
certain the cause. When they took me from my bed, 
the under part of the straw with which it was stuffed, 
was smouldering, and, in a quarter of an hour more, 
must have burst into a flame. Had such been the 
case, how horrible would have been my fate ! for it is 



I 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 103 

more than probable, that, in my half senseless con- 
dition, I should have been suffocated, or burned to 
death. The fright produced by this incident, and a 
very narrow escape, in some degree sobered me ; but 
what I felt more than anything else, was the expos- 
ure. Now, all would be known, and I feared my 
name would become, more than ever, a by-word and 
a reproach. 

Will it be believed that I again sought refuge in 
rum ? Yet so it was. Scarcely had I recovered from 
the fright, than I sent out, procured a pint of rum, and 
drank it all in less than an hour. And now came 
upon me many terrible sensations. Cramps attacked 
me in my limbs, which racked me with agony; and 
my temples throbbed as if they would burst. So ill 
was I, that I became seriously alarmed, and begged 
the people of the house to send for a physician. They 
did so ; but I immediately repented having summoned 
him, and endeavored, but ineffectually, to get out of 
his way when he arrived. He saw at a glance what 
was the matter with me, ordered the persons about 
me to watch me carefully, and on no account to let 
me have any spirituous liquors. Everything stimulat- 
ing was rigorously denied me ; and then came on the 
drunkard's remorseless torturer, — delirium tremens, 
in all its terrors, attacked me. For three days, I en- 
dured more agony than pen could describe, even were 
it guided by the mind of Dante. Who can tell the 
horrors of that horrible malady, aggravated as it is by 
the almost ever-abiding consciousness that it is self- 
sought ? Hideous faces appeared on the walls, and on 
the ceiling, and on the floors ; foul things crept along 
the bedclothes, and glaring eyes peered into mine. I 



104 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

was at one time surrounded bj millions of monstrous 
spiders, that crawled slowly over every limb, whilst 
the beaded drops of perspiration would start to my 
brow, and my limbs would shiver until the bed rattled 
again. Strange lights would dance before my eyes, 
and then suddenly the very blackness of darkness 
would appall me by its dense gloom. All at once, 
whilst gazing at a frightful creation of my distem- 
pered mind, I seemed struck with sudden blindness. 
I knew a candle was burning in the room, but I could 
not see it, — all was so pitchy dark. I lost the sense 
of feeling, too, for I endeavored to grasp my arm in one 
hand, but consciousness was gone. I put my hand to 
my side, my head, but felt nothing, and still I knew 
my limbs and frame were there. And then the 
scene would change : I was falling — falling swiftly as 
an arrow — far down into some terrible abyss; and so 
like reality was it, that as I fell, I could see the rocky 
sides of the horrible shaft, where mocking, jibing, 
mowing, fiend-like forms were perched ; and I could 
feel the air rushing past me, making my hair stream 
out by the force of the unwholesome blast. Then the 
paroxysm sometimes ceased for a few moments, and I 
would sink back on my pallet, drenched with perspi- 
ration, — utterly exhausted, and feeling a dreadful cer- 
tainty of the renewal of my torments. 

By the niercy of God, I survived this awful seizure; 
and when I rose, a weak, broken-down man, and sur- 
veyed my ghastly features in a glass, I thought of my 
mother, and asked myself how I had obeyed the in- 
structions I had received from her lips, and to what 
advantage I had turned the lessons she taught me. I 
remembered her countless prayers and tears, — thought 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 105 

of what I had been but a few short months before, and 
contrasted my situation with what it then was. Oh! 
how keen were my own rebukes ; and, in the excite- 
ment of the moment, I resolved to lead a better life, 
and abstain from the accursed cup. 

For about a month, terrified by w^hat I had suffered, 
I adhered to my resolution; then my wife came 
home, and, in my joy at her return, I flung my good 
resolutions to the wind, and, foolishly fancying that T 
could now restrain my appetite, which had for a whole 
month remained in subjection, I took a glass of brandy. 
That glass aroused the slumbering demon, who would 
not be satisfied by so tiny a libation. Another and 
another succeeded, until I was again far advanced in 
the career of intemperance. The night of my wife's 
return, I went to bed intoxicated. I will not detain 
the reader by the particulars of my every-day life at 
this time; — they may easily be imagined from what 
has already been stated. My previous bitter experi- 
ence, one would think, might have operated as a 
warning; but none save the inebriate can tell the 
almost resistless strength of the temptations which 
assail him. I did not, however, make quite so deep a 
plunge as before. My tools I had given into the 
hands of Mr. Gray, for whom I worked, receiving 
about five dollars a week. My w^ages were paid me 
every night, for I was not to be trusted with much 
money at a time, so certain was I to spend a great 
portion of it in drink. As it was, I regularly got rid 
of one-third of what I daily received, for rum. 

I soon left Mr. Gray, under the following circum- 
stances: There was an exhibition of the Battle of 
Bunker Hill to be opened in the town, and the man- 



I 



106 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

ager, knowing that I had a good voice, and sung 
pretty well, thought my comic singing would consti- 
tute an attraction; so he engaged me to give songs 
every evening, and to assist in the general business 
of the diorama. In this occupation I continued 
about three weeks, or a month, and when the exhibi- 
bition closed in Newburyport, by invitation, I re- 
mained with the proprietor, and proceeded with him 
to Lowell. As it w^as uncertain when I should re- 
turn, — the manager wishing me to travel with him, — 
I sold off what few articles of furniture yet remained 
in my possession, and my wife arranged to stay, dur- 
ing my absence, with my sister. I staid in the town 
of Lowell for the space of three months, my habits 
of intemperance increasing, as might be expected; 
for in a wandering life my outbreaks were not so 
much noticed as when I was residing at home. As 
had been the case often before, rum claimed nearly 
all my attention, and consequently the business I was 
called upon to perform w^as entirely neglected, or 
carelessly attended to. 

One part of my business was to turn the crank, in 
bringing on the troops ; which were figures arranged 
in a frame, a dozen or more together, and placed on 
a band of leather, with cleets to hold them. This 
leather passed over rollers, and ran the whole length 
of the stage. One man placed them on the band, 
another at the other end took them off and sent them 
back to us, and they were presented again; so that 
with a very few figures we could parade quite an 
army. To turn this crank, required a steady hand, 
and I am afraid many of the soldiers marched by 
jerks. Then part of the business was to lie on my 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 107 

back during the bombardment of Charlestown, and 
■while one man worked the figures at their guns, I 
was, at a signal, to apply a match to some powder I 
held on a piece of tin, for the flash, when another 
man struck the big drum, for the report. Often the 
report came before the flash, and sometimes there 
was no flash at all. Occasionally I would lift my hand 
through the hole so high, that the audience saw the 
operation. Then there would be a laugh and a hiss. 
Oh! it was miserable work — half suffocated with the 
smoke, blackened with the powder, sometimes fingers 
burned, or hair and eyebrows singed, for a salary mea- 
ger indeed, when I might have done so well. Have 
I not cause to hate the drink ? Yes, I do hate it. 
And I pray God to give me an everlastingly increas- 
ing capacity to hate it. 

On several occasions when I repaired to the place 
where the diorama was exhibited, I was in such a 
state that I could do nothing required of me, and 
severe were the rebukes I received in consequence, 
from my employer. These remarks incensed me 
highly, and only made me drink more, so that ere 
long my name and that of an incorrigible drunkard 
were synonymous. We next proceeded to Worcester, 
and there remained a fortnight. I experienced great 
difi&culty in procuring the meager salary which was 
promised me, and many privations had I to endure in 
consequence ; my stock of wearing apparel was scanty 
enough, and hardly fit to appear in the street. This 
was in the month of October, and, as the winter was 
drawing on fast, I miserably contemplated what my 
situation would be through the approaching severe 
season. Want and cold appeared before nie in all 



108 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF J0H:N" B. GOUGH. 

their frightful realities, and I again resolved to ab- 
stain from the maddening influences which governed 
me with despotic rule. 

I sent to my wife, requesting her to return, and 
transmitted her three dollars for her expenses to 
Worcester. I adhered in a great measure to my 
resolution not to become intoxicated, but on the day 
I expected her to return home, I met with an ac« 
quaintance, who asked me to stroll about with him, 
in order that he might see the town. We drank 
together, and our walk ended by my getting drunk, 
and forgetting the good resolution which I had 
made. I met my wife at the stage, and took her to 
the hotel. I then went to the performance, and 
managed to get through my work. Soon after this, I 
quitted the service of the proprietor of the diorama; 
and, putting as sober a face upon matters as I could, 
applied to Messrs. Hutchinson and Crosby, for em- 
ployment. These gentlemen agreed to take me on 
trial, stating that, if they were satisfied with my 
work, they would engage me. My work was ap- 
proved, and, once more installed in a good situation, 
I had a chance of pushing my fortune. 

My wife now began to exhibit symptoms of de. 
dining health, and my prospects, as before, were none 
of the brightest. I managed to keep my situation, 
and fancied that my intemperate habits were known 
only to myself, as I carefully avoided any open or 
flagrant violation of propriety, — but drunkenness, 
more than any other vice, cannot long be hidden. It 
seems as if the very walls whispered it; and there is 
scarcely an action of the drinking man, which does 
not betray him. I did not, however, long remain 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 109 

cautious; for one morning, after having drank freely 
the evening before, I felt unable to work, and was 
compelled to remain at home during that day and 
the next. All my property, which could by any 
means be rendered available, I had disposed of, in 
order to procure money for purchasing drink, and the 
man in whose house I boarded, having watched my 
proceedings with a very vigilant eye, became, I sup- 
pose, fearful that I should not be able to pay for my 
board, and informed my employers, Messrs. Hutchin- 
son and Crosby, that I was detained at home in con- 
sequence of what is called a drunken spree. I do 
not think the information was given from any motive 
of kindness towards myself, but believe it was a sel- 
fish motive which prompted the interference. 

I felt wretched enough when I proceeded to the 
shop to resume my work. Mr. Hutchinson had a 
strong hatred of intemperance, and looked not very 
lightly on my transgression. As soon as he saw me, 
he sternly informed me that he did not want any 
men in his employ who were in the habit of being 
the worse for liquor ; and threatened me with instant 
dismissal, should I ever again neglect my business for 
the bottle. I assured him that he should not ao-ain 
have occasion to complain of my inebriety, and I in- 
wardly resolved to profit by the warning I had re- 
ceived. Having a sick wife, and being almost utterly 
de^itute of means, reflection would force itself upon 
me. I was startled at the idea of her and myself 
coming to want, entirely in consequence of my evil 
habit, and I resolved again to attempt the work of 
reformation. 



CHAPTER Vn. 

My Wife*s HI Health. — Her Death — Continued Dissipation — Methodist 
Meeting Interrupted — Sad Reflections — Fourth of July — Cold Wa- 
ter Army — Wretchedness of my Condition — Appeal to Young Men. 

In" order to render myself less liable to temptation, 
and to avoid the dissipated society which I was con- 
stantly falling into at the hotel where I lived, I left 
it, and engaged board at the house of a gentleman 
who happened to be the president of a temperance so- 
ciety. Here I attempted to restrain my appetite for 
drink, but the struggle was terrible: so mighty a 
power would not be conquered without contesting ev- 
ery inch of his dominion; and I, trusting to my own 
strength, assailed it with but a feeble weapon. I felt 
as if I could not do without the draughts which I had 
been so long accustomed to, and yet I was ashamed 
to display the weakness which prompted me to in- 
dulge in them. To procure liquor, I was compelled to 
resort to every kind of stratagem, and the services of 
my inventive faculties were in constant requisition. 
Many a time would I steal out, when no one noticed 
me, and proceed with a bottle in my pocket, to* the 
farthest extremity of the town, where I would pur- 
chase a supply of rum, which I would take home with 
me. Occasionally I procured spirit at the apotheca- 
ry's shop, alleging, as an excuse, that it was required 
in a case of sickness, and the pint I would generally 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. HI 

divide into three portions, one of which I took in the 
morning, another at noon, and thb remainder I dis- 
posed of in the evening. My habits were not natu- 
rally of a deceptive character, and I always felt de- 
graded in my own esteem, whenever I had occasion 
to resort to the expedients I have mentioned, — but 
what will not a drunkard do, in order to procure the 
stimulus he so ardently desires ? Have it I would, and 
get it I did; and I always seemed to desire it the 
more when the difficulty of procuring it was increased. 

My wardrobe — as it had, indeed, nearly always been 
whilst I drank to excess — was now exceedingly shabby, 
and it was with the greatest difficulty that I could 
manage to procure the necessaries of life. My wife 
became very ill. ! how miserable I was ! Some of 
the women who were in attendance on my wife, told 
me to get two quarts of rum. I procured it; and as it 
was in the house, and I did not anticipate serious con- 
sequences, I could not withstand the strong tempta- 
tion to drink. I did drink, and so freely that the usual 
effect was produced. How much I swallowed, I can- 
not tell; but the quantity, judging from the effects, 
must have been considerable. 

Ten long weary days of suspense passed, at the end 
of which my wife and her infant both died. Then 
came the terribly oppressive feeling, that I was utterly 
alone in the world ; and it seemed almost that I was 
forgotten of God, as well as abandoned by man. All 
the consciousness of my dreadful situation pressed 
heavily indeed upon me, and keenly as a sensitive 
mind could, did I feel the loss I had experienced. I 
drank now to dispel my gloom, or to drown it in the 
maddening cup; and soon was it whispered, from one 



112 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

to another, until the whole town became aware of it, 
that my wife and ^child were lying dead, and that I 
was drunk! But if ever I was cursed with the faculty 
of thought, in all its intensity, it was then. And this 
was the degraded condition of one who had been 
nursed on the lap of piety, and whose infant tongue 
had been taught to utter a prayer against being led 
into temptation. There, in the room where all who 
had loved me were lying in the unconscious slumber 
of death, was I, gazing, with a maudlin melancholy 
imprinted on my features, on the dead forms of those 
who were flesh of my flesh, and bone of my bone. 
During the miserable hours of darkness, I would steal 
from my lonely bed to the place where my dead wife 
and child lay, and, in agony of soul, pass my shaking 
hand over their cold faces, and then return to my bed 
after a draught of rum, which I had obtained and 
hidden under the pillow of my wretched couch. At 
such times, all the events of the past would return 
with terrible distinctness to my recollection, and many 
a time did I wish to die, — for hope had well nigh de- 
serted me, both with respect to this world and the 
next. I had apostatized from those pure principles 
which once I embraced, and was now — 

*' A wandering, wretched, worn, and weary thing; 
Ashamed to ask, and yet I needed help," 

I will not dwell on this painful portion of my ca- 
reer, but simply remark, that all the horrors which I 
believe man could bear, were endured by me at that 
dreary time. My frame was enervated, my reputa- 
tion gone, all my prospects were blighted, and misery 
seemed to have poured out all her vials on my de- 
voted head. 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 113 

The funeral of my wife and child being over, I 
knew not what course to pursue -, for, wherever I went, 
I failed not to see the slow moving finger of scorn 
pointed at me. I writhed in agony under the sense 
of shame which it produced. Every one looked 
coldly at me, and but few hesitated to siieer at my 
despicable condition. What had I done to deserve 
all this torturing treatment? I was naturally of a 
kind and humane disposition, and would turn aside 
from an unwillingness to hurt a worm ; frequently 
have I reasoned with boys who inflicted cruelty on 
dumb animals. I would have hugged the dog that 
licked my hand, and taken to my bosom even a rep- 
tile, if I thought it loved me. What had I done to 
make me so shunned and execrated by my kind ? 
Conscience gave me back an answer, — I drank! and 
in those two words lay the whole secret of my miser- 
able condition. 

It was not to be expected that, while I persisted in 
my drinking habits, I should attend to my work. My 
employers perceived that I neglected their interests, 
as well as my own, and I was informed by them that 
they were no longer in need of my services. What 
was I to do? I had incurred some debts which I 
wished to discharge, and I expressed a desire to that 
effect. After some hesitation, I was re-engaged, on the 
understanding that I should receive not one farthing 
of money for my labors, lest it should be spent in 
liquor. My employers said they would purchase me 
tobacco, and obtain for me the articles I needed, as far 
as my earnings would go; and, under these stipula- 
tions, I went to work again. I kept, in a groat degree, 
sober for a few days ; but felt all the time indescribably 



114 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOH^^ B. GOUGH. 

miserable, from the consciousness that all confidence 
in me had been lost, and that I was a suspected man. 
This impression nettled me to the quick ; and, ere long, 
I beoran to feel indis:nant at the control exercised over 
me. I thought that as I had battled the world single- 
handed for twelve years, and had experienced nothing 
(with one or two exceptions) but unkindness and 
misery, I had a right to do as I chose, without being 
watched wherever I went. My proud spirit would 
not brook this system of espionage, so I speedily 
mkde up my mind to do as I pleased. If I wanted 
drink, I considered I had a perfect right to gratify 
my inclinations, and drink I determined to have. 

Have it I did, though secretly; and to my employ- 
ers it was a matter of wonder how I managed to get 
drunk so often. My funds, as I said, were all ex- 
pended, and I was driven by my ravenous appetite 
to a course, which at any other time, and under any 
other circumstances, I should have shrunk from in 
horror. I had in my possession some books which I 
once had valued, some of them presents; and I also 
retained a few articles, the once highly valued me- 
mentos of dear and departed friends. As I looked 
eagerly over these frail remnants of what I once pos- 
sessed, my all-absorbing passion for drink exercised 
its tyrannizing power, and one by one, until none re- 
mained, every relic was disposed of, and the proceeds 
arising from the sale of them spent for rum. Could 
there be a more striking instance of the debasing in- 
fluence which alcohol exerts? Why, at one time, I 
would almost as soon have parted with my life as 
with those precious remembrancers of — 

" The loved, the lost, the distant, and the dead.'' 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 115 

Now, however, all finer feeling was nearly obliter- 
ated from the tablet of my affections, and if I felt any 
pang in parting with articles I once so prized, the 
glass was my universal panacea. At length nothing 
remained on which I could raise a single cent, and I 
found in the lowest depths of poverty "a lower still." 

I have in several parts of this narrative, referred 
to my vocal talents and my ventriloquial acquire- 
ments. After every other resource had failed me, in 
my utmost need, I was compelled, as the only means 
of getting a little rum, to avail myself of these aids. 
Accordingly, my custom was to repair to the lowest 
grog-shops, and there I might usually be found night 
after night, telling facetious stories, singing comic 
songs, or turning books upside down and reading 
them whilst they were moving round, to the great 
delight and wonder of a set of loafers who supplied 
me with drink in return. The first effect of drink on 
me was exhilaration, and that was very quickly pro- 
duced, — a single glass would mount at once to my 
brain, and the natural propensity I had to "make 
fun" was stimulated. When in this state of exhila- 
ration, no absurdity would be too extravagant, and 
no extravagance too absurd to be committed. At such 
times, those who knew me expected some ridiculous 
freak, and in Worcester there were some who encour- 
aged me, for their own amusement. I give an illus- 
tration of this, remembered by several now living in 
that city: — 

It was at the period of the "Millerite" excitement^ 
and meetings were held in a Methodist church, every 
evening in the week. One evening I went to this 
church with three or four companions. I had been 



116 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

drinking, but took a seat very quietly. It was a 
noisy meeting, — half a dozen praying together, with 
cries of "Glory," "Amen," "Hallelujah," "Bless the 
Lord," and like ejaculations, — and I made as much 
noise as the rest; for, when some one near me would 
say "Amen," I w^ould shout, "Yes, brother, or sister," 
as it happened, '^Ame7i'' During a pause in the 
prayer and exhortation, I saw a square wooden spit- 
toon filled with sawdust, quids of tobacco, and refuse. 
A thought took possession of me, suggested by the 
Evil One, that it would be a good joke to pass that 
round as a contribution-box. I well remember how I 
felt impelled to do what I did. Taking the spittoon 
in my hand, as I rose from my seat, I shouted, " We 
will now proceed to take up a contribution for' the 
purchase of ascension robes." I had so taken the 
audience by surprise, that I passed the box along in 
three or four pews, before any one attempted to stop 
me; but soon I saw one of the principal members of 
the church approach me, and, dropping the box into a 
man's lap, scattering the contents over him and on 
the floor, I ran off. A poor, paltry trick it was, but I 
deservedly suffered for it when brought before Justice 
Green in the morning. He fined me five dollars and 
costs for disturbing public worship. The fine was 
paid next day, and to this time I do not know, and 
have never been able to ascertain, who paid it. 

Ah me! who could have recognized in the gibing 
mountebank, encircled by a laughing, drunken crowd, 
the son of religious parents, — one who had been de- 
voted and affectionate not so very long before; one, 
too, who had felt and appreciated the pleasures which 
religion alone can bestow ? At that time the thought 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOH^ST B. GOUGH. 117 

of my former condition v/ould flash across my mind 
when in the midst of riot and revehy; conviction 
would fasten its quivering arrow in my heart, making 
it bleed again, — although I was obliged to hide the 
wound. And through the mists of memory my moth-, 
er's face would often appear, just as it was when I 
stood by her knee and listened to lessons of wisdom 
and goodness from her loving lips. I would see her 
mild, reproving face, and seem to hear her warning 
voice; and, surrounded by my riotous companions, at 
certain seasons reason would struggle for the throne 
whence she had been driven; and I would, whilst en- 
joying the loud plaudits of sots, "see a hand they 
could not see, which beckoned me away." 

How apt the world is to judge of a man pursuing 
the course I did, as one destitute of all feeling, — with 
no ambition, no desire for better things ! To speak 
of such a man's pride seems absurd ; and yet, drink 
does not destroy pride, ambition, or high aspirations. 
The sting of his misery is, that he has ambition, but 
no expectation; desire for better things, but no hope; 
pride, but no energy; therefore, the possession of 
these very qualities is an additional burden to his 
load of agony. Could he utterly forget his manhood, 
and wallow with the beasts that perish, he would be 
comparatively happy. But his curse is, that he thinks. 
He is a man, and must think. He cannot always 
drown thought or memory. He may, and docs, tiy 
for false solace to the drink, and may stun his enemy 
in the evening ; but it will rend him like a giant in 
the morning. A flower, a half-remembered tune, a 
child's laughter, will sometimes suflice to flood the 
victim with recollections that either madden him to 
8 



118 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHJT B. GOUGH. 

excess, or send him crouching to his miserable room, 
to sit with face buried in his hands, while the hot, thin 
tears trickle over his swollen fingers. 

My experience on the Fourth of July, 1842, will illus- 
trate this fact. I was destitute of friends, and there- 
fore determined that I would work at the shop that 
day. About eleven o'clock I heard the sound of 
music, the beating of drums, and the blast of instru- 
ments, and felt at first inclined to go out and see the 
procession, when some one came into the shop and 
said : — 

"The cold water army looks finely; won't you go 
and look at them?" 

Cold water army, — what had I to do with them? 
I said : — 

"I suppose a parcel of old women and children are 
parading the street," — and turned again to my work. 
But the music came nearer and nearer, and burst with 
a crash on my ear. Well, I thought, I will go and 
hear the music, at any rate. I pulled off my apron, put 
on my coat, and as I walked up the street, the proces- 
sion was just turning down by the Central Hotel, and 
I stood, leaning against a post, looking on. I was 
well known on the street, and, in my reckless bravado, 
I determined that none should see me interested in 
such a "humbug;" so, with a siieer on my lip, I — the 
poor, the shabby, the degraded — stood contemptu- 
ously surveying the parade. What a company of 
children! How they shouted, — the boys hurrahing, 
and the girls waving their handkerchiefs, with their 
banners and mottoes! How happy and cheerful, how 
pure and beautiful ! I watched them till the last boy 
turned the corner ; but there I stood, even till the 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF J0H:N" B. GOUGH. 119 

music almost died away in the distance, — the sneer 
on my lip yet, but the tears silently flowing down my 
cheeks. With a start and a heavy sigh, I turned 
away,— oh ! so utterly miserable, — shut out by my 
own act from all participation in such pure delights. 
Lonely and desolate, I turned away. I had been 
thinking — involuntarily thinking — of the time when 
I was a happy, cheerful boy ; of the Sunday-school 
celebration in which I was appointed to read a hymn^ 
and '^ speak my piece ; " of the mother so dearly 
loved, whose precepts I had forgotten ; of the hopes 
that were so bright long ago. Yes : thinking till my 
heart was like to break; thinking till I grew almost 
wild ; the convulsive working of my throat painfully 
testifying how I was stirred, as I slid down an obscure 
street, that I might not be seen, gained the shop, and 
worked and thoug^ht till I was almost mad. How I 
endured that day of agony I cannot tell. It seems 
to me now, that if one word of kindness had been 
spoken to me then,— one touch of a loving hand, — 
one look of sympathy from any human being had 
been given me, — I could have been led anywhere. 
But no man cared for my soul ; and I continued on 
like an Arab of civilized society,— my hand against 
every man, because I believed every man's hand was 
against me. 

The Sabbaths which, from my childhood, I had 
been taught to reverence, were now disregarded. 
Seldom did I enter God's house, where ^^ prayer was 
wont to be made," as I had done during a portion o( 
the time I resided in New York. The dav of rest was 
no Sabbath to me; and my usual way of spending it 
was to stroll into the countrv, where I miulit be 



120 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

alone, with a bottle of intoxicating liquid in my pos- 
session. When this was empty, I would crawl back 
to the town, under cover of the darkness, and close 
the sacred hours in some obscure groggery, in. the 
society of those who, like myself, disregarded the 
command of the Almighty to "keep holy the Sab- 
bath day." 

I boarded for a few weeks with Mrs. Congdon, 
who, with her family, bore with me very patiently, 
and, I believe, felt some interest for me. While there, 
Mr. H. W. Hawkins was engaged to speak at the 
town hall, and Mrs. Congdon entertained him. I 
heard it whispered that an effort would be made to 
bring us together; to prevent which, I absented my- 
self from the house till very late, and so avoided him. 
In the morning, as I was proceeding to my work, a 
stage drove up to the door, and I waited to see who 
w^as the traveler, when Mr. Hawkins came out, and I 
saw him (I met a gentleman the other day who told 
me that he distinctly remembered Mr. Hawkins 
speaking to me on that occasion) ; and in reply to his 
inquiry whether I would sign the pledge, said, "Yes, 
if I can get $1000 a year and my expenses, as you do." 
This was miserable bravado ; and yet, as I left him, 
I chuckled as if I had got the better of him. 

Again the dreary winter was about to resume its 
rigorous reign, and, with horror, I anticipated its ap- 
proach. My stock of clothing was failing fast. 1 had 
no flannels, or woolen socks, no extra coats, and no 
means of procuring those absolutely necessary pre- 
servatives against the severities of an American win- 
ter. I had no hope of ever becoming a respectable 
man again, — not the slightest, — for it appeared to me 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 121 

that every chance of restoration to decent society, 
and of reformation, were gone forever. I wished, and 
fully expected, soon to die. Hope had abandoned 
me here; and beyond the grave nothing appeared 
calculated to cheer my desponding spirit. Oh, what 
a deep and stinging sense I had of my own degraded 
position! for my feelings were keenly alive to the 
ridicule and contempt which never ceased to be 
heaped on me. Utterly wretched and abandoned, I 
have stood by the railway track with a vague wish 
to lie across it, drink myself into oblivion, and let 
the cars go over me ! Once I stood by the rails, with 
a bottle of laudanum clattering against my lips, and 
had nearly been a suicide ; but the mercy of God in- 
terposed, and I dashed the poison on the ground, and 
escaped the sin of self-murder. I was but a young 
man, yet steeped to the lips in poverty, degradation, 
and misery; with energies which, had they been 
rightly directed, might have enabled me to surmount 
difficulty and command respect. 

I had long since ceased to correspond with my sis- 
ter, and so careless had I become, that I never 
thought of communicating again with the only rela- 
tive I had remaining. Frequently was I tempted to 
take my life ; and yet, I clung instinctively to exist- 
ence. Sleep was often a stranger to my ej-elids, and 
many a night would I spend in the open air, some- 
times in a miserable state of inebriation, and at other 
times in a half sober condition. All this time I often 
resolved that I would drink no more, — that I would 
break the chain which bound me ; but I still contin- 
ued in the same course, breaking every promise made 
to myself and others, and continuing an object of 



122 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

scorn and contempt. I felt that very few, if any, pit- 
ied me; and that any should love me, was entirely 
out of the question. Yet was I yearning intensely 
for sympathy ; for, as I have before stated, my affec- 
tions were naturally strong and deep; and often, as I 
lay in my solitary chamber, feeling how low I had 
sunk, and that no eye ever dropped a tear of pity 
over my state, or would grow dim if I were laid in 
the grave, — I have ardently wished that I might 
never see the morning light. 

Fancy, reader, what my agony must have been, 
when, with the assurance that no drunkard could 
enter the kingdom of heaven, I was willing, — nay, 
anxious, — in order to escape the tortures to which I 
was subjected in this life, to risk the awful realities 
of the unseen world! My punishment here was 
greater than I could bear. I had made a whip of 
scorpions, which perpetually lashed me. My name 
was a by-word. No man seemed to care for my soul. 
I was joined, like Israel of old, unto idols, and it 
seemed as if the Lord had said respecting me: "Let 
him alone 1 " 

Before I conclude this portion of my history, let 
me urge on every young man whose eye may glance 
over these pages, to learn from my miserable state a 
lesson of wisdom. Let him beware of the liquor that 
intoxicates. Poets may sing of the Circean cup, — 
praise in glowing terms the garlands which wreathe 
it; wit may lend its brilliant aid to celebrate it, and 
even learning may invest it with a charm ; — but when 
the poet's song shall have died, and the garlands 
withered ; when wit shall have ceased to sparkle, 
and the lore of ages be an unremembered thing, — 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHJ^ B. GOUGH. 123 

the baneful effects of the intoxicating draught will 
be felt, and then will the words of wisdom be aw- 
fully verified in the miserable doom of the drunkard : 
"Wine is a mocker, strong drink is raging." "Who 
hath wo? who hath sorrow? who hath contentions? 
who hath wounds without cause? who hath redness 
of eyes ? ' They that tarry long at the wine ; they 
that go to seek mixed wine. Look not thou upon 
the wine when it is red, when it giveth its color in 
the cup, when it moveth itself aright. At the last it 
biteth like a serpent, and stingeth like an adder." 



CHAPTER Ym. 

My ISliserable Condition — Memory and Efifects of it ISTow — Joel Strat- 
ton — The Touch on my Shoulder — Our Walk — My Promise — Tem- 
perance Meeting in Town Hall, Worcester — First Speech in Public 
— Signinor the Pledge — The Struggle — Jesse Goodrich — Terrible 
Sickness — B-e co very . 

Hitherto my career had been one of almost un- 
mitigated woe; for, with the exception of the days 
of my childhood, my whole life had been one per- 
petual struggle against poverty and misery in its 
worst forms. Thrown at a tender age upon the world, 
I was soon taught its hard lessons. Death had robbed 
me of my best earthly protector, and providence 
cast my lot in a land thousands of miles from the 
place of my birth. Temptation had assailed me, 
and, trusting to my own strength for supj)ort, I had 
fallen, — oh, how low! In the midst of thousands, I 
was lonely ; and, abandoning hope, the only refuge 
which seemed open for me was the grave. A dark 
pall overhung that gloomy abode, which shut out 
every ray of hope ; and, although death to me would 
have been a "leap in the dark," I was willing to peril 
my immortal soul, and blindly rush into the presence 
of my Maker. Like a stricken deer, I had no com- 
munion with my kind. Over every door of admission 
into the society of my fellow-men, the words, "No 
hope," seemed to be inscribed. Despair was my 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHiq" B. GOUGH. 125 

companion, and perpetual degradation appeared to 
be my allotted doom. I was intensely wretched, and 
this dreadful state of things was of my own bringing 
about. I had no one but myself to blame for the 
sufferings I endured; and, when I thought of what 
I might have been, these inflictions were awful be- 
yond conception. Lower in the scale of mental and 
moral degradation I could not well sink. Despised 
by all, I despised and hated in my turn; and dog- 
gedly flung back to the world the contempt and scorn 
which it so profusely heaped on my head. 

Such was my pitiable state at this period, — a state 
apparently beyond the hope of redemption. But a 
change was about to take place, — a circumstance 
which eventually turned the whole current of my 
life into a new and unhoped for channel. 

Here let me pause : Keader, this has been a sad and 
awful revelation ; my cheeks have burned with shame, 
as I have written; and I have been strongly tempted 
to tone down, or draw a veil over portions of this 
narrative, but I have told the truth, plain and unvar- 
nished. As I look back to 1842, — twenty-seven years 
ago, — it seems almost a hideous dream ; I can hardly 
realize my identity with the staggering, hopeless 
victim of the terrible vice of intemperance ; but the 
scars remain to testify the reality ; yes, scars and 
marks never to be eradicated ; never to be removed 
in this life. Saved I may be so as by fire, yet the 
scar of fire is on me ; the nails may be drawn, but 
the marks are there. Do I not bear about with mo 
the remembrance of these days ? yes, always. I 
never rise to speak, but I think of it ; the more I 
mingle with the wise, the pure, the true, — the higher 



126 AUTCBIOaRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

my aspirations, — the more intense is my disgust and 
abhorrence of the damning degradation of those seven 
years of my life from eighteen to twenty-five. I am 
intensely social in my natm^e, and enjoy the society 
of friends keenly ; yet often in the midst of the pleas- 
ant social circle, the ghost of the past comes glid- 
ing before me, and words seem to be hissed in my 
ear: "What is yom" record?" I believe this to be 
one reason why I shrink from society ; v/hy I have so 
often refused kind invitations; why, though I love my 
personal friends as strongly and as truly as any man's 
friends are ever loved, I have so steadily withdrawn 
from social parties, dinners, or introductions. This is 
the penalty I must ever pay. 

A man can never recover from the effects of such 
a seven years' experience, morally or physically. 
Lessons learned in such a school, are not forgotten; 
impressions made in such a furnace of sin are perma- 
nent; the nature so warped in such crooked ways, 
must retain in some degree the shape; lodgments 
are made by such horrible contacts and associations, 
that nothing but the mighty spirit of God can eradi- 
cate. Young men, I say to you, looking back at the 
fire where I lay scorching, — at the bed of torture, 
where the iron entered my soul, — yes, looking back 
at the past; standing, as I trust I do, under the arch 
of the bow, one base of which rests on the dark days, 
and the other I hope on the sunny slopes of paradis% 
— I say to you, in view of the awful evil spreading 
around you, beware ! tamper not with the accursed 
thing, — and may God forbid that you should ever suf- 
fer as I have suffered, or be called to fight such a 
battle as I fought for body and soul. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 127 

The month of October had nearly drawn to a close, 
and on its last Sunday evenmg I wandered out into 
the streets, pondering as well as I w^as able to do, — for 
I was somewhat intoxicated, — on my lone and friend- 
less condition. My frame was much weakened by 
habitual indulgence in intoxicating liquors, and little 
fitted to bear the cold of winter, which had already 
begun to come on. But I had no means of protecting 
myself against the bitter blast, and, as I anticipated 
my coming misery, I staggered along, houseless, aim- 
less, and all but hopeless. 

Some one tapped me on the shoulder. An unusual 
thing that, to occur to me ; for no one now cared to 
come in contact with the wretched, shabby looking 
drunkard. I was a disgrace, — '^a. living, w^alking dis- 
grace." I could scarcely believe my own senses when 
I turned and met a kind look ; the thing was so un- 
usual, and so entirely unexpected, that I questioned 
the reality of it, — but so it was. It was the first touch 
of kindness which I had known for months • and, sim* 
pie and trifling as the circumstance may appear to 
many, it went right to my heart, and, like the w^ing 
of an angel, troubled the waters in that stagnant pool 
of affection, and made them once more reflect a little 
of the light of human love. The person who touched 
my shoulder was an entire stranger. I looked at him, 
wonderino; what his business was with me. Eeo-ardino- 
me very earnestly, and apparently w^ith much interest, 
he said : — 

"Mr. Gough, I believe?" 

"That is my name," I replied, and was passing on. 

"You have been drinking to-day," said the stranger, 
in a kind voice, which arrested mv attention, and 



128 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOH:^^ B. GOUGH. 

quite dispelled any anger at what I might otherwise 
have considered an officious interference in my affairs. 

"Yes, sir/' I replied, "I have." 

"Why do you not sign the pledge?" was the next 
query. 

I considered for a minute or two, and then informed 
the strange friend, who had so unexpectedly inter- 
ested himself in my behalf, that I had no hope of 
ever again becoming a sober man ; that I was without 
a single friend in the world who cared for me, or 
what became of me ; that I fully expected to die 
very soon, — I cared not how soon, or whether I died 
drunk or sober; and, in fact, that I was in a con- 
dition of utter recklessness. 

The stranger regarded me with a benevolent look, 
took me by the arm, and asked me how I should 
like to be as I once was, respectable and esteemed, 
well clad, and sitting as I used to, in a place of wor- 
ship ; enabled to meet my friends as in old times, and 
receive from them the pleasant nod of recognition as 
formerly, — in fact, become a useful member of society? 
"Oh," I replied, "I should like all these things first 
rate; but I have no expectation that such a thing 
will ever happen. Such a change cannot be possible." 

"Only sign our pledge," remarked my friend, "and 
I will warrant that it shall be so. Sign it, and I will 
introduce you myself to good friends, who will feel 
an interest in your welfare and take a j)leasure in 
helping you to keep your good resolutions. Only, 
Mr. Grough, sign the pledge, and all will be as I have 
said ; ay, and more too ? " 

Oh! how pleasantly fell these words of kindness 
and promise on my crushed and bruised heart. I had 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 129 

long been a stranger to feelings such as now awoke 
in my bosom. A chord had been, touched which vi- 
brated to the tone of love. Hope once more dawned ; 
and I began to think, strange as it appeared, that 
such things as my friend promised me might come to 
pass. On the instant I resolved to try, at least, and 
said to the stranger: — 

"Well, I will sign it." 

"When?" he asked. 

" I cannot do so to-night," I replied, " for I must have 
some more drink presently ; but I certainly will to- 
morrow." 

" We have a temperance meeting to-morrow even- 
ing," he said; "will you sign it then?" 

" I will." 

" That is right," said he, grasping my hand ; " I will 
be there to see you ? " 

" You shall," I remarked, and we parted. 

I went on my way much touched by the kind in- 
terest which, at last, some one had taken in my wel- 
fare. I said to myself: "If it should be the last act of 
my life, I will perform my promise and sign it, even 
though I die in the attempt ; for that man has placed 
confidence in me, and on that account I love him." 

I then proceeded to a low groggery in Lincoln 
Square hotel, and in the space of half an hour, drank 
several glasses of brandy ; this, in addition to what I 
had taken before, made me very drunk, and I stag- 
gered home as well as I could. 

Arrived there, I threw myself on the bed and lay 
in a state of insensibility until morning. The first 
thing which occurred to my mind on awaking, was 
the promise I had made on the evening before, to sign 



130 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHX B. GOUGH. 

the pledge ; and feeling, as I usually did on the morn- 
ing succeeding a drunken bout, wretched and desolate, 
I was almost sorry that I had agreed to do so. My 
tongue was dry, my throat parched, my temples 
throbbed as if they would burst, and I had a horrible 
burning feeling in my stomach which almost mad- 
dened me, and I felt that I must have some bitters or 
I should die. So I yielded to my appetite, which 
would not be appeased, and repaired to the same hotel 
where I had squandered away so many shillings be- 
fore ; there I drank three or four times, until my 
nerves were a little strung, and then I went to work. 
All that day, the coming event of the evening was 
continually before my mind's eye, and it seemed to 
me as if the appetite which had so long Controlled 
me, exerted more power over me than ever. It grew 
stronger than I had at any time known it, now that I 
was about to rid myself of it. Until noon I struggled 
against its cravings, and then, unable to endure my 
misery any longer, I made some excuse for leaving 
the shop, and went nearly a mile from it in order to 
procure one more glass wherewith to appease the de- 
mon who so tortured me. The day wore wearily 
away, and when evening came, I determined, in spite 
of many a hesitation, to perform the promise I had 
made to the stranger the night before. The meeting 
was to be held at the lower town hall, Worcester ; and 
thither, clad in an old brown surtout, closely buttoned 
up to my chin, that my ragged habiliments beneath 
might not be visible, I went. I took a place am.ong 
the rest, and, when an opportunity of speaking offered 
itself, I requested permission to be heard, which was 
readily granted. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 131 

When I stood up to relate my story, I was invited 
to the stand, to which I repaired; and, on turning to 
face the audience, I recognized my acquaintance who 
had asked me to sign. It was Mr. Joel Stratton. He 
greeted me with a smile of approbation, which nerved 
and strengthened me for my task, as I tremblingly 
observed every eye fixed upon me. I lifted my 
quivering hand, and then and there, told what rum 
had done for me. I related how I was once respect- 
able and happy, and had a home; but that now I 
was a houseless, miserable, scathed, diseased, and 
blighted outcast from society. I said scarce a hope 
remained to me of ever becoming that which I once 
was; but, having promised to sign the pledge, I had 
determined not to break my word, and would now 
affix my name to it. In my palsied hand I with diffi- 
culty grasped the pen, and, in characters almost as 
crooked as those of old Stephen Hopkins on the Dec- 
laration of Independence, I signed the total absti- 
nence pledge, and resolved to free myself from the 
inexorable tyrant, — rum. 

Although still desponding and hopeless, I felt that 
I was relieved from a part of my heavy load. It was 
not because I deemed there was any supernatural 
power in the pledge which would prevent my ever 
again falling into such depths of woe as I had already 
become acquainted with, but the feeling of relief 
arose from the honest desire I entertained to keep a 
good resolution. I had exerted a moral power wliieli 
had long remained lying by, perfectly useless. The 
very idea of what I had done, strengthened and en- 
couraged me. Nor was this the only impulse given 
me to proceed in my new pathway ; for many who wit- 



132 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

nessed my signing and heard my simple statement, 
came forward, kindly grasped my hand, and expressed 
their satisfaction at the step I had taken. A new and 
better day seemed already to have dawned upon me. 

As I left the hall, agitated and enervated, I remem- 
ber chuckling to myself, with great gratification, "I 
have done it, — I have done it!" There was a degree 
of pleasure in having put my foot on the head of the 
tyrant who had so long led me captive at his will; 
but, although I had "scotched the snake," I had not 
killed him ; for every inch of his frame was full of 
venomous vitality, and I felt that all my caution was 
necessary to prevent his stinging me afresh. 

I went home, retired to bed; but in vain did I try 
to sleep. I pondered upon the step I had taken, and 
passed a restless night. Knowing that I had volun- 
tarily renounced drink, I endeavored to support my 
sufferings, and resist the incessant craving of my re- 
morseless appetite as well as I could; but the strug- 
gle to overcome it was insupportably painful. When 
I got up in the morning, my brain seemed as though 
it would burst with the intensity of its agony; my 
throat appeared as if it were on fire; and in my 
stomach, I experienced a dreadful burning sensation, 
as if the fires of the pit had been kindled there. My 
hands trembled so, that to raise water to my feverish, 
lips was almost impossible. I craved, literally gasped, 
for my accustomed stimulus, and felt that I should die 
if I did not have it; but I persevered in my resolve, 
and withstood the temptations which assailed me on 
every hand. 

Still, during all this frightful time, I experienced a 
feeling somewhat akin to satisfaction, at the position 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 133 

I had taken. I had made at least one step towards 
reformation. I began to think that it was barely pos- 
sible I might see better days, and once more hold np 
my head in society. Such feelings as these would al- 
ternate with gloomy forebodings and "thick coming 
fancies " of approaching ill. At one time hope, and 
at another fear, would predominate ; but the raging, 
dreadful, continued thirst was always present, to tor- 
ture and tempt me. 

After breakfast, T proceeded to the shop where I 
was employed, feeling dreadfully ill. I determined, 
however, to put a bold face on the matter, and, in 
spite of the cloud which seemed to hang over me, at- 
tempt work. I was exceedingly w^eak, and fancied, 
as I almost reeled about the shop, that every eye was 
fixed upon me suspiciously, although I exerted my- 
self to the utmost to conceal my agitation. I was 
suffering; and those who have nev-er thus suffered 
cannot comprehend it. The shivering of the spine ; 
then, flushes of heat, causing every pore of the body 
to sting, as if punctured with some sharp instru- 
ment; the horrible whisperings in the ear, combined 
with a longing cry of the whole system for stimu- 
lants: — "One glass of brandy w^ould steady my shaking 
nerves; I cannot hold my hand still; I cannot stand 
still ; a young man but twenty-five years of age, and 
I have no control of my nerves ; one glass of brandy 
would relieve this gnawing, aching, throbbing stom- 
ach; but I have signed the pledge, — 'I do agree that 
I will not use it,' — and I must fight it out." How I 
got through the day I cannot tell. I went to my 
employer and said : — 

"I signed the pledge last night." 
9 



134 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHI^ B. GOUGH. 

" I know you did." 

^^I mean to keep it." 

" So they all say, and I hope you will." 

" You do not believe I will ; you have no confidence 



in me." 



" None whatever." 

I turned to my work broken-hearted ; crushed in 
spirit, paralyzed in energy, feeling how low I had sunk 
in the esteem of prudent and sober-minded men. Sud- 
denly the small iron bar I held in my hand began to 
move; I felt it move, I griped it, — still it moved and 
twisted ; I griped still harder, — yet the thing would 
move till I could feel it — yes, feel it — tearing the palm 
out of my hand, then I dropped it, — and there it lay, 
a curling, slimy snake ! I could hear the paper shav- 
ings rustle as the horrible thing writhed before me 1 
If it had been a snake, I should not have minded it. 
I was never afraid of a snake; I should have called 
some one to look at it; I could have killed it. I 
should not have been terrified at a thing; but I 
knew it was a cold, dead bar of iron, and there it 
was, with its green eyes, its forked, darting tongue, 
curling in all its slimy loathsomeness! and the horror 
filled me so that my hair seemed to stand up and 
shiver, and my skin lift from the scalp to the ancles, 
and I groaned out, "I cannot fight this through ! Oh! 
my God, I shall die! I cannot fight it!" — when a 
gentleman came into the shop with a cheerful — 

" Good morning, Mr. Go ugh." 

"Good morning;, sir." 

"I saw you sign the pledge last night." 

"Yes, sir, I did it." 

"I was very glad to see you do it, and many young 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 135 

men followed your example. It is just such men as 
you that we want, and I hope you will be the means 
of doing a great deal of good. My office is in the 
Exchange; come in and see me. I shall be happy to 
make your acquaintance. I have only a minute or 
two to spare, but I thought I would just call in and 
tell you to keep up a brave heart. Good-bye ; God 
bless you. Come in and see me." 

That was Jesse Goodrich, then a practicing attorney 
and counselor at law, in Worcester, now dead, — but to 
the last of his life my true and faithful friend. It 
would be impossible to describe how this little act of 
kindness cheered me. With the exception of Joel 
Stratton, who was a waiter at a temperance hotel, and 
"who had asked me to sign the pledge, no one had ac- 
costed me for months in a manner which would lead 
me to think any one cared for me, or what might be my 
fate. Now I was not altogether alone in the world; 
there was a hope of my being rescued from the " slough 
of despond," where I had been so long floundering. I 
felt that the fountain of human kindness was not ut- 
terly sealed up, and again a green spot, an oasis — small 
indeed, but cheering — appeared in the desert of life. 
I had something now to live for; a new desire for life 
seemed suddenly to spring up; the universal boun- 
dary of human sympathy included even my wretched 
self in its cheering circle. All these sensations were 
generated by a few kind words at the right time. 
Yes, now I can fight, — and I did fight, six days and 
six nights, — encouraged and helped by a few words 
of sympathy: "He said, come in and see me; I will. 
He said he would be pleased to make my acquaint- 
ance ; he shall. He said, keep up a brave heart ; by 



136 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN" B. GOUGH. 

God's help, I will." And so encouraged, I fought on, 
with not one hour of healthy sleep, not one particle 
of food passing my lips, for six days and nights. 
What a lesson of love should not this teach us ! How 
know we but some trifling sacrifice, some little act of 
kindness, some, it may be, unconsidered word, may 
heal a bruised heart, or cheer a drooping spirit. 
Never shall I forget the exquisite delight which I felt 
when first asked to call and see Mr. Goodrich; and 
how did I love him from my very heart, for the pleas- 
ure he afforded me in the knowledge that soine one 
on the broad face of the earth cared for me, — for me, 
who had given myself up as a castaway; who, two 
days before, had been friendless in the widest signifi- 
cation of the w^ord, and willing — nay, wishing — to die. 
Any man who has suddenly broken off a habit, such 
as mine was, may imagine what my sufferings were 
during the week which followed any abandoning the 
use of alcohol. 

On the evening of the day following that on which 
I signed the pledge, I went straight home from my 
work-shop, with a dreadful feeling of some impend- 
ing calamity haunting me. In spite of the encour- 
agement I had received, the presentiment of coming 
evil was so strong, that it bowed me almost to the 
dust with apprehension. The slakeless thirst still 
clung to me ; and water, instead of allaying it, seemed 
only to increase its intensity. 

I was fated to encounter one struo^orle more with 
my enemy before I became free. Fearful was that 
struggle. God in his mercy forbid that any young 
man should endure but a tenth part of the tor- 
ture which racked my frame, and agonized my 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN" B. GOUGII. 137 

heart. As- in the former attack, horrible faces glared 
upon me from the walls, — faces ever changing, and 
displaying new and still more horrible features* 
black, bloated insects crawled over my face ; and myr- 
iads of burning, concentric rings were revolving in- 
cessantly. At one moment the chamber .appeared as 
red as blood, and in a twinkling it v/as dark as the 
charnel-house. I seemed to have a knife with hun- 
dreds of blades in my hand, every blade driven 
through the flesh, and all so inextricably bent and tan- 
gled together that I could not withdraw them for 
some time ; and when I did, from my lacerated fin- 
gers the bloody fibers would stretch out all quivering 
with life. After a frightful paroxysm of this kind, I 
would start like a maniac from my bed, and beg for 
life, life ! What I of late thought so worthless, 
seemed now to be of unappreciable value. I dreaded 
to die, and clung to existence with a feeling that my 
soul's salvation depended on a little more of life. A 
great portion of this time I spent alone ; no mother's 
hand was near to wipe the big drops of perspiration 
from my brow ; no kind voice cheered me in my soli- 
tude. Alone I encountered all the host of demoniac 
forms which crowded my chamber. No one witnessed 
my agonies, or counted my woes, and yet I recovered ; 
lioWy still remains a mystery to myself; and still more 
mysterious was the fact of my concealing my sufler- 
ings from every mortal eye. 

In about a week, I gained, in a great degree, the 
mastery over my accursed appetite; but the strife 
had made me dreadfully weak. Gradually my health 
improved, my spirits recovered, and I ceased io de- 
spair. Once more was I enabled to crawl into the 



138 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

sunshine; but, oh, how changed! Wan cheeks and 
hollow eyes, feeble limbs and almost powerless hands, 
plainly enough indicated that between me and death 
there had indeed been but a step; and those who saw 
me, might say as was said of Dante, when he passed 
through the streets of Florence: "There's the man 
that has been in hell." 



• CHAPTER IX. 

My Changed Condition — Weekly Speeches — My Old Overcoat — First 
Speech in a Pulpit — My New Suit — First Remuneration — Invita- 
tions — Extracts from Papers — New Year's Celebration at Barre — 
Permission to Leave Work for Two Weeks — My Apron and the 
Bibles. 

A GREAT change now took place in my condition 
for the better, and it appeared likely enough that the 
anticipations of my friend, Mr. Stratton, who induced 
me to sign tliQ pledge, as to my becoming once more 
a respectable man, were about to be realized. For a 
long period of late, I had ceased to take any care 
with respect to my personal appearance (for the in- 
temperate man is seldom neat), but I now began to 
feel a little more pride on this head, and endeavored 
to make my scanty wardrobe appear to the best ad- 
vantage. I also applied myself more diligently to 
business, and became enabled to purchase a few ar- 
ticles which I had long needed; and go I began to as- 
sume a more respectable appearance. 

I now regularly attended the temperance meetings, 
held at this time in the town hall every Monday even- 
ing. On my first attendance, the president of the 
meeting, Mr. Edwin Eaton, saw me and said: **Tlio 
young man who signed the temperance pledge last 
Monday night is in the hall; we shall be glad to know 
how he feels to-night, and how he is getting on." 



140 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

I immediately arose and said : "I am getting on 
very well, and feel a good deal better than I did a 
week ago." 

That was my second temperance speech; the first 
was when I signed the pledge. At every weekly 
meeting I was invited to speak, and I began to en- 
large on the experience of the intemperate. Some 
persons, hearing these little speeches of mine, invited 
me to visit the neighboring towns and deliver ad- 
dresses ; but the state of my wardrobe, and my desire 
to work at my trade till I could procure the clothes I 
needed, prevented me. But one afternoon, not long 
after I joined the society, a gentleman invited me to 
speak on temperance in the school-house on Burn- 
coat Plain. That evening I shall never forget. I had 
not been able, through scarcity of funds, to procure 
fitting habiliments in which to appear before a re- 
spectable audience, and so I was compelled to wear an 
old overcoat, which the state of my under-clothing 
obliged me to button closely up to my chin. The 
place assigned to me was very near a large and well- 
heated stove. As I spoke I grew warm, and after 
using a little exertion, the heat became so insuffer- 
able, that I was drenched in perspiration. My situa- 
tion was ludicrous in the extreme. I could not, in 
consequence of the crowd, retreat from the tremen- 
dous fire, and unbuttoning my coat was out of the 
question altogether. What with the warmth im- 
parted by my subject, and that which proceeded from 
the stove, I was fairly between two fires. When I 
had finished my speech, I was all but "done" myself 
for my body contained a greater quantity of caloric 
than it had ever possessed before. I question whether 



AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 141 

Monsieur Chabertj the fire-king, was ever subjected 
to a more "fiery trial." 

Not long after this, it began to be whispered about 
that I had some talents for public speaking; and my 
career as an intemperate man having been notorious, 
a little curiosity concerning my addresses was ex- 
cited. I was invited to visit Milbury, and deliver an 
address there. I went in company with Dr. Hunting 
of Worcester; Mr. Van Wagner, known as the Pough- 
keepsie Blacksmith, was also to speak. I spoke for 
the first time from a pulpit, and my address, which 
occupied but from Mteen to twenty minutes, was 
listened to very attentively. How queerly I felt in 
that pulpit, the faces all turned toward me. The 
strangeness of my position made me very nervous; 
my mouth was dry, my knees very weak; but I got 
on, for I had a simple story to tell. At this time 
nothing was farther from my intention than becom- 
ing a public speaker; in my wildest flights I never 
dreamed of this. I can sincerely say, that I was 
urged to give these early addresses solely by a hope 
that good through my instrumentality might be clone 
to the temperance cause, to which I owed my re- 
demption. 

The Washingtonian movement, as it was then 
called, was becoming very popular, and meetings were 
held constantly in school-houses and churches, halls 
and vestry-rooms, all over the country; meetings for 
experience, where perhaps three or four would occupy 
the time ; to many of these meetings I was invited. 

Prior to deliverino; this address at Milburv, I had 
purchased a new suit of clothes, the first which 1 had 
been able to get for a long period. They came home 



142 AUTOBIOGEAPHT OF J0H:J^ B. GOUGH. 

on the day fixed for my s.peaking. Now, I had been 
so long accustomed to my old garments that they 
had become, as it were, a part and parcel of myself, 
and seemed to belong to me and feel as natural as 
my skin did. My new suit was very fashionably cut, 
and as I put on the articles, one by one, I felt more 
awkwardness than, I verily believe, I ever exhibited 
on any similar occasion in the course of my life. The 
pantaloons were strapped down over feet which had 
long been used to freedom, and I feared to walk in 
my usual manner, lest they should go at the knee. 
The vest certainly set off my waist to the best advan- 

)i * tage; but it did not seem on a first acquaintance 

half so comfortable as my ancient friend, although 
the latter had lono; been threadbare and minus a few 

'' buttons. And then, the smartly cut coat was so 

neatly and closely fitted to the arms and the shoul- 
ders and the back, that when it was on, I felt in a fix 
as well as a fit. I was fearful of anything but a minc- 
ing motion, and my arms had a cataleptic appearance. 
Every step I took was a matter of anxiety, lest an 
imlucky rip should derange my smartness. How I 
tried the pockets, over and over again, and stared at 
myself in the glass. Yerily I felt more awkward for 
some time, in my new suit, than I did while roasting 
before the fire in my old one. I spoke a second time 
in Milbury, and afterwards in West Boylston, where 
I occupied the whole evening, and received the first 
remuneration for my work; a collection was taken 
up, and two dollars were handed me by the commit- 
tee. I shall never forget my feelings, as I held the 
cents and four-penny bits in my hand. I returned 
home very exultant. Invitations now began to pour 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 143 

in on me from other quarters, and I had been asked 
several times to go to the same old school-house on 
Burncoat Plain, where I had before spoken- afterward 
to Upton and Sterling, where I spent some days, 
kindly entertained by Dr. Kendall, and where I stated 
in my autobiography I occupied the whole evening 
for the first timej that was a mistake, as it was at 
West Boylston. 

The following notice appeared in the "Worcester 
Waterfall" of December 31, 1842:— 

J. B. GOUGH. 

We understand that this talented and worthy young mechanic is about 
to commence the business of lecturer on temperance. We wish him 
success ; and we have no doubt that he will be eminently successful in 
his labors. He possesses, we believe, most of the elements of a popular 
speaker. He expresses his views in plain and intelligent language, with- 
out effort; and what he says comes warm from the heart. With good 
powers of mind, and a lively fancy, added to wit and humor, he can- 
not fail to please and amuse with his bright and glowing pictures of 
things as they exist; while he instructs the mind with sound views 
and principles, and warms up the heart with kind and generous feel- 
ings and sentiments. 

1^" We learn that Mr. J. B. Gough of this place will lecture in the 
following places: Tuesday evening, at Leicester; Wednesday evening, 
at Upton ; and on Thursday evening of next week, at Grafton. 

Mr. Gough is authorized to receive subscriptions, and give receipts, 
for the " Waterfall," and we hope that the friends of temperance will 
improve this opportunity. 

Ginery Twichell, Esq., was desirous that I should 
go with him to Barre, where a New Year's Day Cele- 
bration, or Temperance Jubilee, consisting of singing 
and addresses, was to be held. I attended this anni- 
versary with him, and formed a friendship which has 
lasted till now, through good and evil, storm and shine. 
I returned to Worcester, and, finding that my applica- 



144 AUTOBIOaRAPHY OF joh:n' b. gough. 

tions for lectures were increasing fast, I applied to my 
employers for leave of absence for a week or two. I 
did not wish to give up a certainty for an uncertainty, 
and was very anxious to retain my situation in the 
bindery; but was also desirous of speaking for tem- 
perance, and visited Grafton, Webster, Milbury, Ber- 
lin, Bolton, and other places in Worcester County, 
the names of which it is not necessary to record. As 
my audiences gradually increased, I acquired more 
confidence in speaking ; I asked permission to leave 
my work for two weeks, on condition that I might re- 
turn to the bindery at the expiration of that period. 
I was binding polyglot Bibles at the time, and had 
fifty of them cut on the ends, ready for turning up ; 
I was told I might go, so I carefully wrapped my 
apron around the Bibles, and left them on the bench, 
went away, and never saw books or apron afterwards. 
I spoke in Northboro in company with N. P. Banks, 
who occupied nearly an hour, when I followed him. 
He was then living in Waltham; he soon became 
interested in politics, and his career is well known 
to the American people, as Governor of Massachu- 
setts, Speaker of the House of Representatives, and 
General. 



CHAPTER X. 

Violation of the Pledge — Reformed Drunkard's Prayer — Constant 
Work — 111 Health — Boston — Old Companions — Bitter Reflections — 
Return to Worcester — Re-signing the Pledge — Extracts from Jour- 
nals — Kindness of Friends — Drunkenness a Disease — Moderate 
Drinking — Constitution and Temperament — Instance of a Printer 
— A Lawyer — Another — Reasons for Giving Them — Picture of 
Blindfold Child. 

I MUST now refer to a circumstance which occurred 
about five months after I signed the pledge, and 
which caused infinite pain to myself, and uneasiness 
to the friends of the cause. I allude to a fact, noto- 
rious at the time, — my violation of the pledge. This 
narrative purports to be a veritable record of my 
history, and God forbid that I should conceal or mis- 
state any material circumstance connected with it. If 
the former portion of this autobiography be calcu- 
lated to operate as a warning against the use of alco- 
holic liquors, the event which I am now about to 
record, may not be without its use, in convincing 
many who have flung away the maddening draught, 
they need a strength, not their own, to enable them 
to adhere to the vows they make. Well and wisely 
has it been said, by the inspired penman, "Let him 
that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fiill;" for 
unassisted human strength is utterly unable to afford 
adequate support in the hour of Aveakness or tempta- 
tion. We are only so flir safe, when we depend on a 



146 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

mightier arm than om^ own for support; our very 
strength lies in our sense of weakness ; and this was 
to be demonstrated in my experience. 

I had known all the misery which intoxication pro- 
duces, and, remembering it, could fervently offer up 
a prayer such as the following, which, although first 
breathed by other lips than mine, aptly expressed 
my feelings: — 

''Almighty God, if it be thy will that man should suffer, whatever 
seemeth good in thy sight impose upon me. Let the bread of affliction 
be given me to eat. Take from me the friends of my confidence. Let 
the cold hut of poverty be my dwelling-place, and the wasting hand of 
disease inflict its painful torments. Let me sow in the whirlwind, and 
reap in the storm. Let those have me in derision who are younger than 
I. Let the passing away of my welfare be like the fleeting of a cloud, 
and the shouts of my enemies like the rushing of waters. When I an- 
ticipate good, let evil annoy me. When I look for light, let darkness 
come upon me. Let the terrors of death be ever before me. Do all this, 
but save me, merciful God, save me from the fate of a drunkard. Amen." 

I loved the temperance pledge. No one could value 
it more than I; for, standing as I did, a redeemed 
man, enabled to hold up my head in society, I owed 
everything to it. Painful as I said this event of my 
life was in the act, and humiHating in the contempla- 
tion, I proceed to state every particular respecting it. 

I was at this time delivering addresses in the towns 
of Charlton and Dudley, Worcester County. Laboring 
so indefatigably, and indeed, unceasingly, almost im- 
mediately after suddenly breaking off the use of a 
stimulus to which I had been accustomed for years, I 
became very weak in health; and, being of an ex- 
tremely nervous temperament, I suffered much more 
than I otherwise should have done. I had an almost 
constant distress in my stomach, and gradually be- 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 147 

came so excited and nervously irritable, that I en- 
tirely lost my appetite, and could neither eat nor 
sleep. The physician at Dudley gave me tincture of 
Tolu, in which was ether, which afi'ected me very 
strangely. The engagements that I had made at 
Charlton came to a termination on Fast Day, and in 
order to prepare for an address the next evening, at 
Sutton (that town being the next on my list of ap- 
pointments, numbering now more than thirty in suc- 
cession), I returned to Worcester. While there, and 
on my way there from Charlton, I felt sensations to 
which I had before been a stranger. It was a most 
distressing feeling, but one impossible to define. 

It will be remembered that, in a former page, I 
have given an account of an accident which I received 
when a boy, my head having been wounded by a 
spade. In the neighborhood of this old injury, I ex- 
perienced considerable pain, and could not refrain 
from continually pressing my hands on the top of my 
head, to relieve the intense throbbing. A restlessness, 
too, accompanied these symptoms, for which I could 
not account, and which I could not by any effort sub- 
due. It was noticed, with some uneasiness by my 
friends, that I acted and talked very strangely ; but 
I was not at all conscious that in ' my appearance 
there was anything to excite or attract more than 
ordinary attention. 

I boarded with Mrs. Chamberlain, as good, kind, 
and considerate a woman as I ever knew. She ob- 
served my illness, and strongly urged me to remain 
at home and go to bed. But I was in so nervous a 
state, that to remain still for five minutes together, 
was a thing utterly impossible. I coukl neither sit 



148 AUTOBIOGRArHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

in one position long, or remain standing; and this 
restless feeling was far more distressing to myself, 
than can be imagined by those who have not suffered 
in a similar way. It appeared to me that I must be 
going somewhere, I knew not and cared not whither ; 
but there was a certain impulsive feeling which I 
could not restrain, any more than an automaton can 
remain motionless when its machinery is wound up. 
I left Mrs. Chamberlain's house, much against her 
wish, saying I should return shortly, and intending 
to do so; but when I had wandered about for a little 
time, I heard the fifteen minute bell at the depot 
announce that the train was about to start for Boston, 
and, almost without thinking what I was about to do, 
I proceeded to the station, entered the cars, and, with 
no earthly aim or object, set out for Boston ; all I felt 
was an irresistible inclination to move on, I cared not 
where. Several gentlemen in whose company I fell, 
noticed the extreme strangeness of my deportment 
and conversation, while in the cars. 

On arriving at Boston, I strolled for some time 
about the streets, uncertain how to employ or amuse 
myself Evening drew on, and it occurred to me 
that I might dissipate my melancholy and quiet my- 
self down, by going to the theater ; I resolved to pur- 
sue this course, and accordingly entered the play- 
house. I had not been there long before I fell in 
with some old companions, with whom I had been in- 
timate many years before. We talked together of 
old times; and at last, observing my manner, and 
noticing that I talked strangely and incoherently, they 
inquired what ailed me. I told them that I felt as if 
I wanted to move on, that move on I must, but cared 



AUTOBIOGEAPHT OF JOniS" B. GOUGH. 149 

not whither, — in fact, that I was very ill. After being 
pressed to accompany them and take some oysters, I 
consented, and we all repaired to an oyster room. It 
was during the time of taking this refreshment, that 
a glass of wine or brandy was offered me. Without 
thought, I drank it off. And then, suddenly, the ter- 
rible thought flashed across my mind, that I had 
violated my pledge. The horror I felt at the moment, 
it would be impossible for me to describe. Ruin, in- 
evitable ruin, stared me in the face. By one rash and 
inconsiderate act, I had undone the work of months, 
betrayed the confidence reposed in me by friends, 
and blasted every hope for the future. To say that I 
felt miserable, would only give a faint idea of my 
state. For five months I had battled with my enemy, 
and defied him when he appeared armed with all his 
terrors; but now, when I fondly fancied him a con- 
quered foe, and had sung in the broad face of day my 
paeans of victory to hundreds and thousands of list- 
eners, he had craftily wrought my downfall. I was 
like some bark, 

** Which stood the storm when "winds were rough, 
But in a sunny hour, fell off; 
Like ships that have gone down at sea 
When heaven was all tranquility." 

My accursed appetite, too, which I deemed eradi- 
cated, I found had only slept; the single glass I had 
taken, roused my powerful and now successful enemy. 
I argued with myself that as I had made one false 
step, matters could not be made worse by taking an- 
other. So, yielding to temptation, I swallowed three 
or four more potations, and slept that night at tlie 
hotel. 

10 



150 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

With the morning, reflection came; and fearful, 
indeed, appeared to me my situation. Without drink- 
ing again, I started in the cars for Newburyport, pain- 
fully feeling but not exhibiting any signs of having 
indulged in the intemperate cup on the previous 
evening. 

At Newburyport an unlooked-for trial awaited me, 
— I was invited to speak for the temperance society 
there. I felt that I had no claim noio to be heard, 
although I bitterly repented my retrograde move- 
ment ; but at length I consented to speak, and did so, 
both on the Sunday and the following Monday. To 
Worcester I dreaded returning, so agonized was I in 
mind. It was there I came forward as a redeemed 
drunkard ; had there often solemnly vowed that the in- 
toxicating cup should never press my lips again ; had 
there been received by the kind and the good with 
open arms, and encouraged to proceed. But, alas ! 
how had I fallen ! and with what countenance could 
I meet those to whose respect and sympathy I felt I 
had now no longer claim? I returned, in consequence 
of entertaining such sentiments as these, to Boston, 
there intending to remain until I should decide as to 
what my future course should be. I became faint, 
hungry, and sick; and my heart remained "ill at ease." 
Again I drank, although not to excess, and at length 
resolved, at all hazards, to return to Worcester ; which 
place I reached on Saturday, where, as might be ex- 
pected from my conduct previous to leaving, my 
friends were very much alarmed at my absence. 

On my arrival home, I immediately sent for my 
friend, Mr. Jesse W. Goodrich ; the same gentleman, it 
will be remembered, who kindly invited me to call on 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 151 

him the day after I signed the pledge. I also sent 
for Dr. Hunting, who had greatly interested himself 
in my welfare. When these gentlemen came to see 
me, I at once made them acquainted with what had 
transpired in Boston, and my violation of the pledge; 
and then expressed to them my determination to 
leave the town, county, and state, never more to re- 
turn to it. I then re-signed the pledge, and com- 
menced packing up my books and clothes, with the 
full intention of leaving Worcester the following 
Monday. I took my little account-book containing 
the list of my appointments, with letters, and, with 
the exception of a few scraps of newspapers, burned 
all that was connected with my public work, fully de- 
termined to speak no more. 

My friends, who did not desert me, even in these 
dark hours of my existence, again rallied round me, 
and persuaded me to remain, in order to attend the 
temperance meeting on the Monday I had fixed as 
the day of m}^ departure. My candid statement had, 
in a measure, revived their confidence in me. In ac- 
cordance w^ith their desire, I did remain, and went, at 
the time mentioned, to the upper town hall, where a 
very large audience was assembled, and appeared to 
feel a great interest in the proceedings. I was almost 
broken-hearted, and felt as if I were insane; but I 
humbly trust that I sincerely repented of the false 
step I had taken, and, cheered by the considerate 
kindness of my friends, I determined, Cod helping 
me, to be more than ever an uncompromising foe to 
alcohol. 

As this portion of my history is of some impor- 
tance, I shall, instead of entering into any detailed 



152 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

description of the meeting I have just spoken of, my- 
self, quote in this place the report of the proceedings 
which appeared at the time in the public journals. 

The following article appeared in the "Cataract 
and Washingtonian " : — 

Mr. John B. Gough, as soon as Be was known to be in the hall, 
was called for in all directions, and received in a manner which showed 
the true spirit of Washingtonian sympathy, kindness, and charity to be 
still predominant in the bosom of this great Washingtonian fraternity. 
Feeble in health, and with an utterance half choked by the intensity of 
his feelings, he briefly alluded to, and promptly acknowledged, his late 
misfortune, saying that he had, within a few days past, deemed himself 
a crushed and ruined man ; but that the enemies of the great cause he 
had attempted to advocate need not rejoice, — that he had rallied, had 
re-signed the pledge, and then felt, and should prove himself, a more 
uncompromising foe to alcohol than he had ever been before ; and, after 
invoking, in tones that came from, and went to, the heart, the blessing 
of heaven upon his friends, the society, and the cause, attended by his 
physician and some friends, he retired from the hall, subdued even to 
tears by the trying ordeal through which he had been passing. 

The following is extracted from a more extended 
report in the same journal : — 

The Washingtonian Society of Westborough met at the town hall on 
Thursday evening, April 20, 1843. The hall was full to overflowing. 
The meeting was called to order by the President of the Society, and 
opened with prayer by the Ildv. Mr. Harvey ; after which the President 
introduced Mr. J. B. Gough, the well-known, eloquent, and successful 
advocate of temperance ; who, in a very feeling and appropriate manner, 
stated that, within a short time he had broken his pledge, but he had 
signed it again, again risen up to combat King Alcohol, and that he ap- 
peared before them the uncompromising foe to alcohol in all its forms, 
willing to devote all the energies of his body and mind to the noble cause 
of temperance ; and, with all humility, threw himself upon the kindness 
of his friends, stating it was for them to say whether or not he should 
proceed, and have their kindness and support ; when the following resolu- 
tions were offered, and unanimously adopted, almost by acclamation : — 

Resolved, That as intemperance is the cause of most of the misery 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 153 

and suflPeriog that affect our fellow-men, drying up and poisoning the 
streams of domestic happiness, it is, therefore, our imperative duty to 
exert our united efforts against the monster, and stand shoulder to 
shoulder until the evil is banished from the land. 

Resolved, That we highly appreciate the former services of Mr. 
J. B. Gough as a Washingtonian lecturer ; and, notwithstanding the 
unhappy circumstances which have lately occurred, we do most cordially 
greet him in the Washingtonian spirit of kindness and sympathy, and 
most cheerfully do we give him our countenance and support in the 
glorious cause of temperance. 

Mr. Gough again rose, evidently much embarrassed, and was 
received by the audience with decided marks of approbation. He 
stated, that to be thus received was more than he felt able to bear. 
Scorn and contumely he should be enabled to endure ; but to kindness 
he had not always been accustomed, and he was completely unmanned. 
Kecovering his self-possession, he went on, and most eloquently warned 
all, particularly the young men who had become Washingtonians, to 
abandon their aid associates, and not place themselves in the way of 
temptation. He portrayed, in most glowing colors, the criminality of 
those who endeavor, whatever may be their motive, to induce any one to 
violate his pledge, leaving them to their own consciences and their God. 

After holding the undivided attention of his audience for near an 
hour, he concluded with a most powerful appeal to all to come out and 
sign the pledge ; hoping that no one would offer, as an excuse, that the 
speaker had violated his ; but come out, and, each and all, give their 
support to a cause which is worthy of the best effort of our powers. 

Similar resolutions were passed at Sutton. 

Never shall I forget the kindness shown me at this 
time hy my friends. It would be impossible for me 
to enumerate here all from whom I received the most 
considerate attentions, — but they are not forgotten by 
me, and never will be. 

Although freely and fully forgiven by that society, 
I still felt keenly on the subject of my lapse; but my 
intention of leavino- the town was not carried into 
effect; as mv friends one and all uro-iuo; me to re- 
main, I felt it my duty to accede to their wishes. I 



154 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

was waited upon in Worcester by Mr. Ellsworth 
Childs of Westborough, with a request from the good 
friends of that place that I should visit them ; and I 
felt it to be a duty to go to the different towns where 
I had made engagements, and to which I had been 
re-invited, fully and frankly to confess the circum- 
stances which led me to break my appointments, and 
solicit their forgiveness, — which was willingly ac- 
corded in every case. 

I trust that I now had a full sense of my own in- 
sufficiency to keep myself from sinking. Hitherto I 
had relied too implicitly on my own strength for sup- 
port, and my utter weakness had been painfully ex- 
emplified, in my violation of a sacred promise. It was 
a humiliating blow, but it taught me that I derived 
my strength from on high, and that when He with- 
drew it, I was utterly powerless to think of myself 
any good thing. Whatever my future situation in 
life may be, I hope ever to possess a strong sense of 
my utter weakness, and cherish a humble dependence 
on Him who is able to keep me from falling, and ren- 
der my labors honorable und useful. 

This account of my violation of the pledge will, I 
doubt not, be entirely new to many of my readers, 
although in my own neighborhood the fact was noto- 
rious enough at the time. 

It is my earnest wish to send forth this narrative 
to the world in as complete and perfect a manner as 
practicable; omitting nothing, nor adding to anything, 
so that it may be as faithful a record of my life as can 
be presented. I have not shrunk from depicting the 
dark days of my life, because I wish to warn my fel- 
low-men against the wine cup, and to strip the false 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 155 

and fading flowers from the manacles which amuse 
the inebriate while they cripple his energies; and in 
referring, as I shall have occasion to do in the re- 
maining pages, to the time since the dark pall was 
lifted, — I trust, forever, — and hope's brilliant star shed 
on me its luster, I believe I shall not be deemed egotis- 
tical. Than this, nothing can be more foreign to my 
views and sentiments. My readers must take the 
picture as it is, remembering that I have not adopted 
the style of any academy or school, but endeavored 
to present to the mind's eye a graphic delineation of 
what may be often met with in our daily paths, — a 
painting of human nature from the life. 

I desire to offer no apology, — neither to excuse or 
palliate the fault of violating my pledge at that time; 
but would say a word or two in behalf of those who 
unfortunately fail in their promise to abstain. Drunk- 
enness is a mysterious disease, and the power of appe- 
tite on a nervous, susceptible organization is almost ab- 
solute, and there is no remedy but total ahstinence, — 
total and entire. You cannot make a moderate drinker 
of a drunkard. If he takes one glass, it is like fire to 
powder ; the appetite may lie dormant for years, but 
it is there, in nine cases out of ten, like the smoulder- 
ing fires of a volcano, to be roused by one dram into 
fury, — to drench body and soul in the burning lava of 
drunkenness. 

Many say : "I have no patience w^ith a man who 
cannot drink in moderation ; why cannot a man drink 
one glass, and then stop ? surely he can if he will and 
if he will not, then I condemn him without sympa- 
thy." Before you judge, you should know all the 
circumstances, or ft is unjust judgment. You can 



156 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

drink moderately ; he cannot, — and you despise him. 
Men are differently constituted. Many men, many 
temperaments. Let me give a personal illustration : 
I never could endure the sight of blood, or even to 
hear of it. On one occasion, in Mount Yernon Church, 
Dr. Kirk preached from the text, "For the life is in 
the blood;" and as he described the elements of blood, 
I became so faint and sick that it was with great dif- 
ficulty I could remain in my seat. On another oc- 
casion, in Glasgow, I went to hear a physiologist 
discourse of the effects of alcohol on the human sys- 
tem, with diagrams. AVhen I took my seat, and faced 
what looked to me more like a butcher's shop than 
anything human, I felt faint and sick, and before the 
lecture had proceeded far, was obliged to leave the 
hall. (This circumstance was sometim-e after adduced 
as evidence that I w^as drunk.) 

Now other persons are not thus affected. Some 
men actually enjoy taking ether, or laughing-gas. I 
think I would endure almost any agony, rather than 
inhale ether. I once took it under the direction of 
Dr. Morton of Boston ; the sensation to me was as if 
my soul was being forcibly driven out of m}^ body, and 
was clinging and struggling to retain possession; the 
experience was awful, and I did not recover in four 
weeks from the effect of the administration of ether. 
So with drink, on some temperaments ; one glass will 
mount to the brain instantly, weakening the power of 
will, affecting the self-control, stimulating the percep- 
tion, while it destroys its accuracy, and the man is not 
the same. That one glass has caused partial insanitj^ ; 
and his judgment being perverted, — slightly, it may 
be, but sensibly, — in a degree, he is not so able to re- 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 157 

sist the temptation, and the appetite being roiisedj 
takes hold of him and drags him down in its fearful em- 
brace. The only safety for such a man is total absti- 
nence; and to a man who has been a victim, bound by 
the cords of this fierce desire, it will be a life-struggle, 
when at times the old appetite comes over him like a 
wave. Let him do anything but drink, let him run, — 
it is not cowardly to run. 

I knew a man who was strongly tempted, and es- 
caped. He was a printer, and, working near a win- 
dow opposite which was the "Shades," he saw per- 
sons coming out, wiping their lips, having taken their 
"eleven o'clock." He began to want it, and grew 
nervous ; the desire increased ; every fiber of his sys- 
tem seemed to cry out for it, when he dropped his 
form of type ; nnd, in his vexation at the accident, 
took off his apron, put on his coat, with the intention 
of getting a drink ; when, as he said, he thought of 
wife and children, of former ruin and disgrace, and 
present prosperity and reputation, and rushed out 
and ran hatless through the streets till he reached 
home : — 

"Wife, shut me up ! for mercy's sake, shut me up, and 
don't let me out; ask no questions, but shut me up!" 

Slie was a wise wife, and locked him in a room, and 
there he remained for thirty hours, before he dare 
venture out to his work again. 

A lawyer who had been intemperate told me: "I 
have been obliged to forego all light literature. I 
can hardly read a newspaper." 

"Why?" 

" I have not tasted drink for two years, but if I only 
read of drinking, I want it. I have paced my olHce 



158 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

with hands clenched, and the sweat standing in beads 
on my forehead, as I battled the horrible desire to get 
drink, when I have read of a man drinking a glass of 
wine." 

Another gentleman told me that he had not drank 
for twenty-eight years, but said he: "I have some fifty 
men working for me, and when I take the breath of a 
man who has been drinking,! want it, — yes, sometimes 
want it, so that I have ridden ten miles horseback to 
rid myself of the desire that seemed to cry through 
my whole system, give! give! when I have taken the 
breath of a man who has been drinking." 

I could give many cases of this character, v/ell au- 
thenticated, but forbear. My object is not to excuse 
my own violation of the pledge, but to excite sym- 
pathy for the unfortunate, and a spirit of patience for 
those that you may think are wilfully and recklessly 
going astray; and to enforce the truth that there is 
no absolute safety for any man but in total abstinence, 
and also to encourage the tempted and tried to seek 
for strength from him who is " a refuge, a very pres- 
ent help in time of trouble." 

I remember reading of a picture in which a beauti- 
ful child was represented blindfold, walking on the 
edge of a fearful precipice, so sweetly and calmly 
confident, that you wondered, till in looking more 
closely, you saw a guardian angel, dimly defined, the 
wings lost in the mists above, that, with two slender 
taper fingers, one on each of the child's shoulders, 
was gently and safely guiding it on its path. 

So, oh, my Father, may thy loving hand support 
me, and my prayer be ever : " Hold thou me up and 
I shall be safe." 



CHAPTER XL 

Lectures Continued — Written Record — Number of Speeches — Remu- 
neration — Miles Traveled — Signatures Obtained — Incidents — Visit 
to a Drunkard — Laughable Experience — Deacon Moses Grant at 
Hopkinton — Engagements for Boston — Adventure with an Officer 
of Justice — First Speech in Boston — Other Speeches — My Marriage 
— Meeting with Deacon Grant — Trip to New York, Philadelphia, 
Baltimore, and Washington — Return to Philadelphia — Return to 
Boston. 

It is not my intention to give a diary of my work 
from this time, or even to attempt a connected detail 
of the places I have visited, or dates, from 1843. That 
would be tedious and unprofitable. I wish to note 
some of the incidents connected with my work, and 
shall take them, as nearly as possible, in the order of 
time in which they occurred. The sphere of my op- 
erations soon became extended, and I delivered lec- 
tures in Worcester, Suffolk, and Norfolk counties, and 
in the border towns of Vermont, New Hampshire, 
and in the city of Providence. I have kept, from 
May 14, 1843, to the present date, a correct record of 
every place I have visited for work ; the number of 
miles I have traveled; the number of names obtained 
to the pledge at my meetings ; the families or hotels 
where I was entertained; the sums received for ser- 
vice, and the expense incurred, — that is all. And I 
much regret that I have kept no regular journal of 
incidents or fiicts, as I must Ye\y somewhat on mem- 
ory; but principally on letters, newspaper articles, 



160 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN" B. GOUGH. 

and my record book, — in which I have written down 
from time to time the main features of facts which 
I deemed valuable, with dates and names ; and I 
shall reject those that are at all apocryphal, and give 
only those where the date is kept and the evidence 
reliable. 

My personal experiences I give on my own verac- 
ity, avoiding the use of names and places, as I deem 
it judicious. 

For the first year or two of my work, I labored 
hard. In three hundred and sixty-five days I gave 
three hundred and eighty-three addresses, and re- 
ceived from them one thousand and fifty-nine dollars, 
— out of which I paid all expenses ; traveled six thou- 
sand eight hundred and forty miles; and obtained 
fifteen thousand two hundred and eisrhteen sio^natures 
to the pledge. It was my custom to speak an hour 
or more, then invite signatures, sing songs, and give 
short exhortations, relating anecdotes, etc. I received 
from seventy-five cents to six dollars for a lecture, — the 
latter sum being paid me in the city of Boston, — and 
eighty-three addresses were given gratuitously in that 
time. Probably the remuneration was all they were 
w^orth ; but I sometimes found it hard to keep up 
with my necessary expenditure. I remember, at one 
place I had spoken on three evenings, when the com- 
mittee told me they had no funds in the treasury, and 
did not like to take up a collection ; but if I would come 
again, and give them three more lectures, they would 
pay me. I made the arrangement, and some time 
afterward went ag-ain. At the close of the second 
lecture a gentleman rose and said: "I believe the 
gentleman who has addressed us left this town on 



AUTOBIOGKAPnY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 161 

the occasion of his last visit with no remuneration 
for his services. I propose that a collection be now 
taken up for the purpose of paying him." 

Another gentleman rose and said: "I dislike collec- 
tions- but if we must have one, I propose that it be 
postponed till to-morrow evening, when we will come 
prepared." 

The third evening was very rainy, and a collection 
was taken up, amounting to one dollar and eighty 
cents. A gentleman standing near the table where 
the money was being counted, remarked: "It is very 
small ; I do not mind making it up out of my own 
pocket to two dollars;" and as he laid two ten cent 
pieces on the table, said, with a great deal of em- 
phasis : "For the laborer is worthy of his hire." 

I refused to take two dollars for six days' work, at 
an expense to me of five dollars, and left. The next 
morning three liquor sellers sent me a note with five 
dollars inclosed, as they thought I had worked hard 
enough to be paid. 

On another occasion, after I had been speaking for 
nearly two hours, and taken my seat, bathed in perspi- 
ration, the chairman rose and proposed a vote of thanks 
for the lecture, — which was passed unanimously. As 
the audience were being dismissed, I asked if that 
vote of thanks " could be given me in writing ? as 
perhaps the conductor on the train would take it for 
my fare." The hint was sufficient, and a collection 
was taken up, amounting to four dollars. 

This was not meanness, but thoughtlessness ; and 
I speak of these things, not censoriously or to find 
fixult, but to show the early struggles of temperance 
advocates; and as a hint to those young men ^^ho 



162 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

are ambitious to be public speakers, and who some- 
times come to me and ask how they shall attain to 
the position of a lecturer, that a man cannot jump 
at once to a position, but must climb up the hill, — 
sometimes slowly and painfully, — before he can earn 
a reputation. 

All these experiences were' very valuable to me, 
and I ought to be the last man to grumble, when the 
public has treated me so generously. I say this, lest 
I should be misunderstood in alluding to these inci- 
dents. 

I might fill a book with amusing and affecting 
scenes that I witnessed. It was in most respects a 
pleasant w^ork, and I enjoyed it exceedingly. I vis- 
ited prisons, penitentiaries, houses of correction; have 
spoken to the deaf and dumb, the blind, and twice to 
the insane. I was requested by a gentleman to call 
on the hardest case in a certain town. I told him 
then, — what has been my experience since, — that, ex- 
cept in particular cases, such calls would do more harm 
than good. If the man is willing to see me, I will 
gladly go to him; if he will come to see me, I will 
gladly give him my time ; but for a stranger to go un- 
invited and unexpected, he might be met with : " Who 
told you I was a drunkard ? you mind your business, 
and I'll mind mine. When I want you I'll send for 
you; and you had better stay away till you are sent 
for." I know / should have said something of this 
kind, had any man called on me. At any rate, in 
certain states of mind I should have resented it. 
It is a very difficult matter to approach a drunkard. 
If his friends can arrange for an interview, well and 
good. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHi^ B. GOUGH. 1G3 

Said the . gentleman : "He is a sad brute* when 
drunk he is a perfect devil. He beat his daughter — 
a girl fourteen years of age — with a strap that shoe- 
makers fasten the last on the knee with, so that she 
will carry the marks, probably, to her grave. And 
yet, when sober, he is kind and gentle; loves his 
children; is tender to his wife, — and the poor w^oman 
is sick with bilious fever, and the doctor thinks she 
can hardly recover. He has not been drinking for 
some days, and I think if you could get at him you 
might do him good." 

I said, " I will go." 

The house was shown me, and I knocked at the 
door. He opened it, and knew me, for he had been 
to one of the lectures. 

"Mr. Gough, I believe." 

"Yes, that's my name; w^ould you please give me 
a drink of water?" 

"Certainly; come in." 

I went in, and sat down. He brought the w^ater. 
I noticed two children playing on the floor; a door 
was half open, leading — as I found afterw\^rds — to 
the room where the wife lay sick. I talked with him 
about the weather, the roads, the freshet, the contem- 
plated railroad to the town, — striving to introduce 
the subject of temperance ; but the man seemed de- 
termined that I should not; and wdien I approached 
the subject, would head me ofl". I felt perplexed, and 
thought of leaving, when, noticing the children, I said : 

"You've two bright children there ; are they yours? 

"Yes, they're mine; and they're bright enough. 

"You love your children; do you not?" 

" Sartain ! I love my children." 






1C4 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN" B. GOUGH. 

^^ Would you not do anything you could to benefit 
your children?" 

He looked grave, as if there was something else 
coming after that, and said: "Sartain! I ought to be 
willing to benefit my children." 

"Well," and I got up, ready to get out of the door 
if he should be ofiended, "do you not believe that if 
you gave up drink, the children would be better off?" 

Looking curiously at me, he half chuckled out: 
"Waal, yes, — yes, — if I should give up the drink the 
children would be better off." 

"You have a good wife?" 

"Yes, sir! as good a wife as ever a man had." 

"You love your wife?" 

"Sartain! (a little impatientty) I love my wife; 
it's natural for a man to love his wife." 

"Would you not do anything you could to please 
your wife?" 

"Sartain! I ought to please her if I can." 

"Do you not think, if you signed the pledge, that 
would please her?" 

Springing to his feet, he cried out: "I couldn't do 
anything would please her like that! By thunder! 
if I should sign the pledge, I really believe the old 
woman would be up and about her business in a week, 
sick as she is now." 

"Then," I said, "you'll do it." 

"I will!" 

He opened a closet, took out some ink and an old 
pen ; I spread out the pledge ; he sat down, and, 
laying his cheek almost on the table, — if he did not 
flourish with his pen he did with his tongue, — wrote 
his name. As he laid down the pen he said, "There!" 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 165 

The children had stopped their play when we be- 
gan to speak of temperance. They knew what a 
drunken father was, and what the pledge would do 
for them ; and as he signed, their eyes grew large, 
like saucers, and one said to the other, " Father has 
signed the pledge ! " 

Lifting up her hands, the other cried out: "Oh, my! 
now I'll go and tell my mother." 

She ran into the room; but the mother had been 
listening and heard it all, and I could hear her softly 
say: "Luke! Luke! come in here, Luke!" 

Turning to me, he said: "Come in here with me 
and see my wife; she'll like to see you." 

I went into the room. There lay the wife, very 
pale, — her eyes so large ! with one thin, bony hand 
she took mine, and with the other, the hand of her 
husband, and said: "Luke is as good a man as ever 
lived; a kind father, a good provider, a loving hus- 
band; — it is only the drink that makes the difficulty." 

The man shook like a leaf, and, snatching his hand 
from the grasp of his wife, tore down her night-dress, 
and, pointing to a bad-looking bruise on the shoulder 
near her neck, cried out: "She says I'm good! she 
says I'm good! look at that! I did that three days 
before she was taken down sick; and she says I'm 
goodi God Almighty forgive me for that! Am I 
good?" Dropping on his knees, he laid his head on 
the bed, and, convulsively weeping, clutched the bed- 
clothes. 

She laid her hand on his head : "Don't, Luke ; please 

don't cry. Don't believe him, Mr. Gough. He wouldn't 

have struck me if it had not been for the drink. 

It wasn't you, Luke dear, it was the drink. Don't cry, 

11 



166 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHIST B. GOUGH. 

please; you've signed the pledge, and we're all right 



now." 



"When I left them, if my eyes had been dry, I 
should have been ashamed of myself Two years 
after I saw them, and he had kept his pledge; but 
since that I have known nothing of them. This is 
one case, among hundreds, for which I thank God 
with all my heart to-day. 

On one occasion I had made an appointment in a 
small town in Massachusetts, and, accompanied by a 
friend, I rode seven miles, and arrived at the church 
as the people were assembling. Not knowing any 
one, I approached a plain-looking man,, and asked if 
there was to be a lecture there ^ 

" Yaas." 

"Who is the lecturer?" 

" Gough." 

" Can you tell me where I can find the President 
of the Society?" 

" I spect / am the President." 

" Ah ! — my name is Gough." 

" Waal, it's most time to go in." 

So in we went, and I sat in a pew till he came to 
me, and said, "You'd better go in the desk." 

"Is there any one here to offer prayer?" I asked. 

" No ; the minister's away." 

" Is there no deacon ? " 

" I spect I'm a deacon." 

" Can't you pray ?" 

" No ; I don't speak in meeting." 

As I passed into the desk, he stood below and an- 
nounced : " Mr. Gough is in the desk, and is going to 
lectur." 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHX B. GOUGII. ]67 

So I "lectiir'd" as well as I was able, and had no 
sooner taken my seat than I heard from below: 
"We'll now percede to take up a collection for the 
benefit of the lecturer." 

As no one seemed inclined to move, he passed 
round with his hat, while the people were going out, 
and, dumping the contents on the table in front of the 
pulpit, and shaking the lining of his hat, said : "There ! 
that's all for you, and we sha'n't take nothing out for 
lights." 

The amount did not exceed a dollar and a half, — 
principally in cents; some of them the tokens that 
were then in vogue, and passing as current coin, 
stamped on one side with a jackass running away 
with the sub-treasury. 

I said, " I don't want it," 

" Why, there's a lot of it." 

" I don't want it." 

"Yer don't?" 

" No." 

" Waal, then I'll take it." 

And sweeping the coin into his hat, and holding 
it before him, dipped his head into it, exclaiming : 
" Waal, I guess I can carry it." 

I said, "You've got more cents in your hat than 
usual." 

"Waal, yes; I don't generally carry cents in my 
hat." 

"But some of it is jackass cents." 

"Waal, yes; I see there was some bungtowns in 
the heap." 

And without another word he marched oft] leaving 
me to laugh, which I did most heartily, and make the 



168 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

best of my way to our starting point; and, I assure 
you, my friend and I were very merry, and made the 
woods ring as we passed through them. The whole 
thing was so irresistibly ludicrous to me, that I must 
be excused for inserting it. 

Time and hard work brought me to August 23, 
1843, when, at a celebration at Hopkinton, I first met 
Deacon Moses Grant of Boston. He had sent me re- 
peated invitations to visit that city, which I had de- 
clined, being perfectly well satisfied with my work in 
smaller places, and having a great dread of speaking 
in Boston. But when I met him at Hopkinton, he 
asked to see my book of appointments, and, immedi- 
ately placing his finger on the sixteenth, twenty-first, 
twenty-second, and twenty-third days of September, 
told me I must consider myself engaged by him for 
those days. Mr. Grant then very kindly told. me to 
come to his house, and divest myself of all fear; for 
a good opportunity should be given me. 

I fulfilled my engagements till Saturday, the six- 
teenth of September, and on that day reached Boston, 
and went at once to Mr. Grant's house, where I was 
kindly received, — though the Deacon was visiting his 
pet institution, the Farm School for boys, and would 
not return till evening. When I went to tlie room 
appointed for me, I found my coat was badly ripped. 
This was an unfortunate dilemma, for it was my only 
coat, and it must be mended. One of the family 
kindly ofiered to do it for me ; and, while sitting in 
my shirt-sleeves in my chamber, a message came that 
a man wanted to see me. When he came to my room 
I found he was an officer with a writ against me for 
twenty dollars, owing to Mrs. Lunt, with whom some 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHl^^T B. GOUGH. 1G9 

years before I had boarded. It was a just debt, and I 
was struggling hard to pay what I owed; for when I 
signed the pledge I was in debt some five hundred 
dollars, contracted in different places. Here was an- 
other dilemma:— I must either get security, pay the 
money, or go with the officer, — and my first speech in 
Boston to be given in a few hours! The officer was 
very kind, and waited till my coat was mended, and 
then accompanied me to the Washingtonian head- 
quarters, in Court Street, where one of the officers 
became security, and I returned to Mr. Grant's house. 
Immediately on his return he made an arrangement 
to assume or pay the debt till I could work it out. 

This kindness of the officer of the Washingtonian 
Temperance Society was thus noticed in their organ, 
the "New England Washingtonian," April 10, 1845, 
when the editors had become offended with me : — 
"Who was it that took him from the hands of the 
officer, and bailed him, and saved him from going to 
jail, and there lying .from Saturday night till Monday 
morning, when Deacon Grant, Levite-like, turned his 
back on him, and would not assist him, because he 
^did not know the young man?'" 

However, all things were made straight, and I pro- 
ceeded* with Mr. Grant to the room under the Boston 
Museum, in Tremont Street. I felt rather apprehen- 
sive in view of speaking in Boston, for I had heard 
it spoken of as the modern Athens, and knew that, 
as to intelligence, it stood very high among the 
cities of the Union. It was of no use to look back, 
for I was engaged to speak, though I really felt half 
inclined to run away; but I determined to pluck up 
courage. The hall was about half filled. I had Ire- 



170 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHJ^ B. GOUGH. 

quently faced larger audiences, but I had never ex- 
perienced so much hesitation and nervous sensibility, 
as then. My courage, like that of ^'Bob Acres," 
seemed to be oozing out at my finger ends, and my 
heart palpitated with apprehension. But I managed 
to get through the ordeal — for such in reality it was 
— without my trepidation having been much observed. 
Since that time I have delivered three hundred and 
twenty-one public lectures in Boston, besides ad- 
dresses to children at various times ; and I have been 
ever treated with the greatest kindness and liberal- 
ity by the Boston press and people, with very few 
exceptions. 

On the four following days I spoke in Koxbury, 
^d on the 21st I spoke again in Boston. On the 
next two evenings I spoke in Marlboro Chapel. Al- 
though I had heard much of temperance meetings 
being frequently held in that famous hall, I had never 
seen them. On the first night it was about half full, 
and on the next, the audience filled the building. I 
then left Boston, and traveled through the various 
towns in the vicinity, delivering addresses, until the 
following 3d of November, when I returned to the city, 
and spoke three or four times at Marlboro Chapel, and 
on ^ve or six occasions at the Odeon. I felt some 
diffidence about speaking at the latter place, fearing 
it was too large for me ; but, to my surprise, on Sun- 
day night it w^as very full ; and on the Monday even- 
ing, crowded to excess. This reception encouraged 
me, and I continued to give addresses in Boston, with 
very few exceptions, till the 2d of December, when 
I went to Portland, Maine, and again returned to 
Boston ; speaking in the course of the month some- 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 171 

times for the Washingtonians, and sometimes for the 
Ladies' Benevolent Society, — but principally under 
the direction of my friend Deacon Grant, and the 
Boston Temperance Society, — under the judicious 
management of that gentleman, who then acted as 
its President. 

My services were now in requisition at Concord, 
N. H., where I spoke in connection with Franklin 
Pierce, afterwards President of the United States ; then 
in New Bedford, Nashua, Gloucester, Marblehead, and 
Rockport ; and I made a trip into the old colony of 
Plymouth, where the Pilgrim Fathers landed; and 
visited also the towns of Newburyport, Newport, R. I., 
and many other places, — returning occasionally to the 
city, and speaking to large audiences there. 

On the 23d of November, 1843, I left Boston for 
Boylston, for the purpose of marriage ; and on the 
next day — the 24th — I left the house of Captain 
Stephen Flagg of Boylston with Miss Mary Whit- 
comb, who had consented to become my wife. It was 
early in the morning, raining heavily, that we started 
in a carriage hired in Worcester for the occasion. 
There were no bridal wreaths or gifts; no wedding 
ring or cards ; no bridesmaids or grooms, — only we 
two, agreeing to walk the journey of life together. 
We were driven to the house of Rev. Mr. Smalley of 
Worcester, — a gentleman who from the first had been 
my friend, — and found him at breakfast. We stood 
up together and left his house husband and wife; 
proceeded at once to Boston, where Deacon Grant met 
us and escorted us to Roxbury, where we rented one 
room, and boarded with Mrs. Fuller. 

When I had paid the minister five dollars, and our 



172 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

fare to Boston, I had just three dollars and a half 
left; but Mary was perfectly willing to risk it with 
me, — though in addition, I was somewhat in debt. I 
had a "Daily Food," with passages of Scripture for 
every day in the year; and the passage for November 
24, 1843, was :— 

"He shall cover thee with His feathers, and under 
His wings shalt thou trust. His truth shall be thy 
shield and buckler." — Psalms xcL 4. 

Truly He has covered us till now, and caused our 
"cup to run over with good." He has "set our table 
for us in the sight of all our enemies, and given us a 
goodly heritage 1 " 

Mr. Grant had been quite curious in reference to 
my choice of a wife, and very desirous of seeing her ; 
so, when we arrived, he bade me see to the luggage, 
while he accompanied Mrs. Gough to the waiting- 
room, I secured the trunks, and met him coming out 
of the waiting-room alone. Laying his hand on my 
shoulder, he said, "She'll do." 

And nobly she has done, — my faithful, true, and 
loving wife, — for twenty-five years ! 

I spoke the same evening in Eoxbury, for the 
Ladies' Benevolent Society, — rested on the Sabbath, 
— and to work with a will all through the winter. 
We were poor; and I wonder sometimes, how I lived 
through all the exposure. Often I would be placed 
in the best room, generally in the north-eastern part 
of the house ; never warmed ; often so cold that my 
flesh would sting as I touched the sheets; and, hav- 
ing but one suit of clothes, I have more than once 
found my waistcoat so stiff with the frost that it 
would almost stand up; while my other clothing was 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHJT B. GOUGH. 173 

in like condition. I never could speak without heavy 
perspiration, and I would put these clothes on me and 
shiver till they had thawed and become dry- but my 
health continued good. 

I had received applications from New York, Phil- 
adelphia, and other places ; and it was decided by my 
friends that I should take a trip to New York, Phil- 
adelphia, Baltimore, and Washington, in company 
with Deacon Grant. The anniversary of the Amer- 
ican Temperance Union was to be held on the 9th of 
May ; and this occasion was to be my first attempt in 
New York. 

We left Boston on the 8th, and reached the city on 
the morning of the 9th, and were entertained at the 
Croton Hotel, on Broadway, kept by Mr. Moore. Dr. 
Bacon of New Haven, made the first speech; I was 
to follow. When I rose, the audience began to go 
out; but I had the opportunity of speaking to a large 
number, and the papers spoke encouragingly of my 
effort. 

I proceeded, after speaking in Newark and Brook- 
lyn, and twice more in New York, to Philadelphia. 
Although arrangements had been made for my speak- 
ing there, it was not deemed advisable to hold meet- 
ings, in consequence of the riots which had recently 
occurred. But, after speaking five nights in Balti- 
more, and two in Washington, I returned to Philadel- 
phia, where I spoke in a riding-school to a very small 
audience; the next night in the large room of the Chi- 
nese Museum, to a smaller audience, — only about one 
hundred. 

Mr. Leonard Jewell, one of the Executive Commit- 
tee of the Pennsylvania State Temperance Society, 



174 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHX B. GOUGH. 

was present; and, finding no one to receive me or to 
introduce me to the audience, kindlv came forward, 
made himself known to me, and presided on the oc- 
casion. He seemed interested in mv address, and suor- 
gested the idea of procuring a church for the next 
evening (Sunday). Accordingly, through his influ- 
ence, the Presbvterian Church, of which Eev. A. Rood 
was pastor, was obtained. I went there accompanied 
by Mr. Jewell ; as before, no one received me, so he 
kindly introduced me to the pastor. The committee 
not only permitted me to leave the city without re- 
muneration, but without thanks \ so that my first im- 
pressions were not very favorable ; though soon after- 
wards I became wonderfully attached to Philadelphia, 
and that attachment and affection have grown in 
strength as the years have gone by. 

TThile proceeding to Boston to be present at the 
grand Temperance Celebration on the 30th of May, 
I delivered an address on board the steamer Massa- 
chusetts, in company with Dr. Patton, Eev. John 
Marsh, and others. 



CHAPTER Xn. 

Temperance Celebration in Boston — Description of Trip to Western 
New York — Visit to the Penitentiary on Blackwell's Island — Benefit 
at Tabernacle — Meeting in Faneuil Hall — Work at Philadelphia and 
other Places — Views on Moral Suasion — Review of my Experience. 

The occasion of the 30th of May was one of the 
most interesting that ever occurred in the capital of 
Massachusetts. The whole population of the city 
seemedj almost to a man, to have risen up and hailed 
the celebration of the genius of temperance. It was 
a brilliant day, in the most beautiful of months, and 
all heaven and earth seemed to conspire to do honor 
to a cause whose object was the promotion of the 
happiness of God's creatures. The sun shone from a 
sky of cloudless azure, and the young May flo^Yers 
rejoiced in his beams; the river sparkled as it flowed 
along, bearing on its broad bosom majestic barques, 
decorated from trucks to main-chains with gay flags 
and streamers. Every now and then a light cloud of 
white smoke would float upward, and then the thun- 
der of cannonadino; reverberated amono; the distant 
hills. Music sent forth its glad tones upon the air; 
and as one band ceased its melody, another and an- 
other would burst forth, until the whole air was vocal 
with sweet sounds. The city was dressed in o-iv at- 
tire, as we may suppose Yenice was clad in her briglit 
and palmy days. The stores were closed ; for inno- 



176 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

cent pleasure ruled in the marts of commerce for a 
few short hours. The custom-house doors no more 
afforded egress and ingress to the busy sons of traffic ; 
and at the banks were heard no silver sounds, proceed- 
ing from the money-changers. The counting-house 
was still ; for the merchant and his clerks had closed 
the ledger, and determined to balance accounts with 
temperance, for once in the year at least. From 
many a warehouse window, high up, hung gaily- 
colored fancy goods; and in some streets, lines of 
banners stretched across from end to end; and hun- 
dreds of emblematic bottles were displayed, suspended 
from lines, bottom upward, with the corks out. From 
every window that commanded a view of the proces- 
sion gazed hundreds of old and young, grave and gay. 
Those in Washington Street were crowded with ladies; 
and never did brighter eyes rest on a fairer scene , 
than was presented to the view that day. It was a 
great day for the women; yes, for the women! They 
were more interested in such a demonstration than at 
first glance might be supposed. K ever an angel 
conveyed to them " good tidings," surely it must have 
been the heavenly visitant who bore temperance to 
their homes. Weak, delicate women may well bless 
a cause so pregnant with household blessings and do- 
mestic affections. How many bright eyes have grown 
dim, and light hearts heavy, and delicate frames 
bowed down to the dust! and what young hopes 
have been blighted, and sti-ong affections crushed, 
and fair prospects blasted, during the absence of tem- 
perance from the hearth-side ! Ay, that hearth itself 
has become a desolate place, a domestic desert, barren 
and unprofitable ; for where the mother sang to her 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHJT B. GOUGH. 177 

girl, and the father proudly gazed on his boy, — where ' 
husband and wife " took sweet counsel together/' and 
sister and brother formed the social ring, — scarcely a 
link of the shivered chain is left to tell where happi- 
ness once had been. 

Families become scattered whenever intemperance 
plants his burning feet on the threshhold; and that 

which was once — 

"A little heaven below/' — 

a sanctuary from the toil and turmoil of this working- 
day world, becomes but a cage of unclean birds, — a 
very Pandemonium. Home 1 the magic of that word 
is dispelled forever, and they who dw^elt under the 
family roof-tree, — 

" Who grew in beauty side by side, 
Who filled one house with glee, 
From each are severed far and wide, 
By stream and mount and sea." • 

Oh! has not woman reason to bless the temperance 
cause ? 

But, to the procession ; for, as no record of it, ex- 
cept the ephemeral reports of the newspapers, ex- 
ists, I have been induced to notice it here. I had 
witnessed many great gatherings of various descrip- 
tions; but none ever affected me as this did. I 
could scarcely speak, and to describe my feelings 
would be impossible. Such a day I never, in my most 
sanguine dreams, imagined would have dawned on 
earth. On it came, — a dense, gaily adorned, moving 
multitude, all in perfect order ; every eye beaming 
with gladness, and every lip wreathed with smiles. 
The Boston Brigade Band came first, pealing forth 
strains of triumphant music ; the Washington Light 



178 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

Infantry, clad in the trappings of war, next marched 
to celebrate the peaceful triumphs of temperance; 
and then a magnificent prize banner displayed its 
gorgeous folds to the breeze f after which came a 
four-horse barouche, with two marshals, one on either 
side, in which was that truly great and good man, 
Governor Briggs, the President of the Day, accompa- 
nied by the President of the Washingtonian Temper- 
ance Society. High as was his situation as Governor 
of the Bay State, never stood he in a prouder posi- 
tion than on that day. Oh ! it was a noble thing to 
see one who possessed such influence exerting it in 
so noble a cause, and there, by his presence, encour- 
aging the progress of a reform, the blessings result- 
ing from which will only be known in that day when 
all secrets shall be revealed. A far nobler and more 
imposing sight was it, than fields of martial glory 
could ever exhibit, — fields where heroes stood and re- 
ceived their laurels of triumph. The Governor of 
Massachusetts headed an army which only pressed on 
to achieve bloodless victories, and proclaim — 

" Peace on earth ! " 

Such men constitute the true nobility ; universal be- 
nevolence is emblazoned on their escutcheons; the 
happiness of mankind, temporal and eternal, forms 
their motto; and the gratitude and admiration of 
their kind, the rich seals to their patents of nobility! 
After a long and imposing procession of temper- 
ance societies, came the cold water army, — a legion 
of little ones. A pleasant sight it was, — that array of 

* This flag was afterwards awarded by Moses Kimball, Esq., of the Museum, 
to the county having the largest number in the procession, according to its 
population. 



AUTOBIOGKAPHT OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 179 

children as^ with tiny feet, they marched along the 
crowded streets, looking up to the vast multitude who 
gazed on them, with sparkling eyes and delighted 
smiles. Some were there who had once known the 
misery of having a drunken parent; who had long 
been strangers to the kind word and approving smile; 
but who now felt all the blessed influence which tem- 
perance spreads around. And happily the little things 
trooped on, waving mimic banners, and shouting for 
very joy. Some had fathers and brothers in that 
long line of procession, who never saw their little 
darlings so happy before. Oh, it was a pleasant sight ! 
This cold water army had a leader, who ably, — 

"Marshaled them the way that they should go." 

It was Deacon Grant, — the friend of children. He 
had not, like many commanders of great armies, can- 
non at his back, and bayonets to perform his bidding.' 
He did not issue bulletins, or general orders ; but he 
was well supplied — as, by the way, he usually was — 
with tracts and pamphlets and hand-bills, in such 
vast and incredible numbers, — all on the subject of 
temperance, — that it was a mystery how he stowed 
them away in his many pockets. Look at him, now 
that he is wound up to a pitch of enthusiasm seldom 
equaled, and which, it would seem, never can be sur- 
passed, waving, not a marshal's baton, but a beaver 
hat, the capacious interior of which has, by an in- 
genious device, been converted into a teetotal library-; 
a circulating one, too, — for see how the printed sheets 
are flying in all directions ! Hurrah! shout the chil- 
dren in ecstasy. All of them are delighted and 
pleased with Deacon Grant's care of and for tlioni ; 



180 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF J0H:N" B. GOUGH. 

and as pleased and liappy as any one of his little bat- 
talion is Deacon Grant himself. 

It would be an idle thing to attempt a description 
or enumeration of the many devices which appeared 
on the banners and flags displayed in the procession, — 
which consisted, at a moderate computation, of forty 
or fifty thousand persons. It was altogether a mag- 
nificent sight, and one which had never been par- 
alleled. 

I saw one man in the long line who called up 
emotions of thankful interest in my heart. Some 
time before, that person came to me at my house in 
Eoxbury, a wretched, drunken, broken-down creature, 
and signed the pledge. When he had done so, the 
poor fellow clasped his hands, and said: "Oh, Mr. 
Gough! do you think lean keep it? Do you think I 
shall be able to perform my promise?" 
* I assured him that he could ; and he expressed his 
earnest intention to adhere to his pledge. I now saw 
that very man, with a firm step and a flash of honest 
pride in his eye, bearing aloft a mottoed banner. He 
was a free man, and rejoiced in his emancipation. Oh ! 
my heart thrilled with joy as I gazed, and knew and 
felt that hundreds such as he were joining in the 
festival of the day. Men who had been redeemed 
from a worse than Egyptian thralldom, and were re- 
stored to their homes, to their families, and to society. 
As banner after banner, with their various mottoes, 
passed by me, my feelings were strung to an almost 
painful degree of tension ; for I remembered all the 
past, and could not help contrasting my present situa- 
tion with what it had been. 

The good city of Boston never witnessed a prouder 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 181 

array in her. streets, than on that day. As the pro- 
cession passed through the various thoroughfares, it 
was hailed with joyous acclamations; and, in many 
places, bouquets and garlands of flowers were show- 
ered from the windows by their fair occupants. 
When it arrived at the entrance to the spacious Com- 
mon, the "great cold water army" filed off in par- 
allel lines, and between them went the long train of 
living beings to the place of appointment. 

The old Common was all alive that day; from the 
dome of the State House floated the stars and stripes, 
the gorgeous folds of the national flag appearing in 
full relief against a sky of dazzling azure. Banners 
appeared in every direction, and the deep boom of 
the drum resounded from all quarters. During the 
intervals of music there was almost a Sabbath still- 
ness, although from sixty to seventy thousand persons 
were present. The most perfect order was preserved, 
and nothing tended to mar the peaceful proceedings 
of the time. The mighty mass assembled around 
stands which had been erected on the Common, and 
a prayer having been offered up, in which blessings 
were implored on the great cause of temperance, the 
united voices of the vast assemblage — a noble band of 
freemen — arose to heaven in a shout of — 

" We're a band of freemen, 
We're a band of fi-eemen," etc. 

When the voices had ceased, Governor Bricrcrs arose 
and expressed in eloquent terms his high gratification 
at the spectacle before him; such an one, he hesitated 
not to say, as had never been witnessed in the world 
before. His Excellency spoke for more than half an 
hour, and his remarks elicited loud and frequent 
12 



I 



182 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

plaudits. The Governor was followed by other speak- 
ers, whose addresses were listened to with deep inter- 
est. It was a glorious thing to see men who stood in 
high places, and enjoying the confidence of the wise 
and good, taking conspicuous parts in such proceed- 
ings; and if angels ever rejoice over earthly scenes, 
surely it might have been while contemplating such 
a great moral spectacle. As I was much fatigued by 
my labors during the past few weeks, I did not take 
any part in the proceedings of the day, at least in 
the open air. Indeed, I do not think I could have 
spoken at that time ; my heart was too full. Kn en- 
gagement, however, had been made for me to speak 
in the Tremont Temple in the evening, to which 
place an admission fee of twenty-five cents was re- 
quired, for the purpose of defraying expenses. The 
house was filled to overflowing, as soon as the doors 
were opened. The Governor, myself, and several 
others, then delivered addresses^ which closed the 
exercises of the day. 

In June, I concluded an engagement with Rev. 
John Marsh, to deliver a series of thirty addresses in 
"Western New York, at ten dollars per lecture, I pay- 
ing my wife's and my own expenses, — for at that time 
she traveled with me constantly. On this trip, I first 
saw Niagara Falls, which wonder of the world I will 
not venture to describe ; not being desirous of adding 
one more to the list of incapables in this respect. 
August I spent in Massachusetts ; September, in 
Maine ; October, in Massachusetts and Rhode Island ; 
and commenced a series of lectures in New York and 
vicinity, under the direction of Rev. John Marsh, on 
the same terms as before. While at Brooklyn I be- 



AUTOBIOGRAPnY OF JOHN B. GOUGU. 183 

came acquamted with Mr. George Hurlbut and Mr. 
George C. Ripley, two gentlemen who became my 
true, firm, and ever faithful friends, and of whom 
I cannot speak but with a thrill of deep grati- 
tude. Mr. Hurlbut passed away, and went home in 
1846. Mr. Ripley still lives, my dear and honored 
friend. My wife and I visited at Mr. Hurlbut's two 
weeks of our stay in Brooklyn, and received from him 
and his amiable wife many proofs of Christian kindness. 
At the request of a lady, named Sanderson, 1 was 
induced to visit that dreary abode of misery and 
crime, — the Penitentiary, on Blackwell's Island, near 
New York. Mrs. Sanderson, like the celebrated Mrs. 
Fry of England, and Miss Dix of America, devotes 
much of her time to what would appear to some, the 
almost hopeless task of reforming the wretched be- 
ings who are consigned to this fearful place. In the 
language of the Superintendent of the Prison, "She 
does more good than fifty men." My object in going 
was to hold a temperance meeting. Soon after my 
arrival, the doors of the different cells — which are 
built in tiers, one over the other — were opened, and 
the convicts, male and female (some eight hundred in 
number), were led into the large chapel of the Peni- 
tentiary, and informed by the keeper of the object 
of the meeting. His Honor, the Mayor, James Har- 
per, Esq., occupied the pulpit ; and one or two clergy- 
men, and some other gentlemen were present. It 
was a strikino; sii'lit, that assemblao-e of men and 
women of all ages and descriptions. There was the 
hardened criminal, and the youth who had only just 
commenced the career of crime; women who retained 
little of womanhood in their swollen and bloated 



184 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHIT B. GOUGH. 

features, and young girls, on whose countenances 
traces of beauty yet lingered, sat side by side ; all 
had committed offences against the laws, and were 
enduring its punishment. Such an audience I never 
before stood up to address; the spectacle was fear- 
fully interesting. In noticing the service, the New 
York "Sun" said : — 

At the early part of the meeting, the prisoners seemed rather in- 
different to "what was going on; but the first sound of Mr. Gough's 
voice had scarcely died away, ere their hardened countenances began to 
relax, and, in a few moments, every eye was riveted on the speaker, 
with an expression of the deepest interest. As he proceeded with his 
touching appeals, many a rough cheek was moistened with tears, and 
the words, ''Thafs the truth,^^ were often nodded about the room as 
plainly as if they had been spoken. The women particularly, seemed 
much affected; and manifested less anxiety to conceal their feelings 
than the men. It may not be improper to mention, too, that the optics 
of our worthy Chief Magistrate were, at intervals, unusually red ; but 
this might have been owing to the rough wind he had encountered in 
crossing the river, or to an improper adjustment of the spectacles on 
his benevolent nose. 

At the close of my address. His Honor requested 
those of the prisoners who would like to have another 
temperance meeting held there some Sunday, to man- 
ifest it by raising their hands. Every hand in the 
room apparently, was instantly shown, and one poor 
fellow ventured to bawl out, "Let's have one every 
Sunday." I was informed, that after I left the Peniten- 
tiary, several of the prisoners applied to the Superin- 
tendent, and requested permission to sign the pledge. 

Principally through the suggestion and exertion 
of my kind and valued friends, Mr. Hurlbut and Mr. 
Eipley of Brooklyn, a benefit was got up for me on 
Christmas evening, at the Tabernacle, in Broadway, 
New York. The New York press took the matter in 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 185 

hand, and almost without exception did all in their 
power to promote the object in view. The attendance 
at the Tabernacle was very large, and fully answered 
its intended object. At its close, a series of resolutions 
were passed, which expressed approval of my efforts 
in the temperance cause, and a desire that I should 
again visit the city. 

I again left New York for Boston ; and, on the 29th 
of December, delivered another address at the Tre- 
mont Temple, in that city; after which I proceeded 
to Taunton, where a meeting was held — at which I 
spoke — for the benefit of Mr. Williams, editor of the 
Taunton "Dew-Drop," a deserving little sheet, de- 
voted to the interests of the temperance cause. 

The year was now drawing to a close, and it was 
arranged that a grand meeting in Faneuil Hall should 
be held on its last evening. I was present, and de- 
livered an address on the interesting occasion. The 
old " Cradle of Liberty " contained a vast assemblage, 
and hundreds who were present felt that, since the 
dying year commenced, they had thrown off fetters 
which had long galled them, and were now blessed 
with freedom in its noblest sense. Minds wdiich had 
long bowed down in blind idolatry to the monster, 
rum, had been emancipated from its tyrannic rule, 
and now saw the old year, as it passed away, bearing 
with it the record of their liberty. Man}^ were there, 
too, who had welcomed in that year with song and 
wine, — who had wreathed about its young temples 
the garlands which dissipation loves to twine, and 
sent it, as it were, reeling on its pathway towards the 
future; but Avho now watched it, departing forever, 
laden with ardent hopes, high resolves, and — better 



186 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

than either — fulfilled purposes. During that year, 
what changes had taken place! When the keen 
blasts of January howled around yonder dwelling, in 
the outskirts of this populous city, a pale, wan woman 
might have been sitting, — 

" Plying her needle and thread;" 

and, as she pondered on the new year just entered 
upon its existence, she looked forward to its months 
w^ith no hope, and reverted to the past with no pleas- 
ure. The past! what had it written on the page of 
memory, to cheer her? He to whom her young 
vows were given, — who had promised to love and 
cherish her, — had all but deserted her, and had buried 
feeling and affection in the intoxicating cup. One 
by one, every slender thread of comfort had snapped, 
and with them some fine heart-strings cracked too. 
Earth to her appeared but a long dreary desert, over 
which a miserable caravan was passing, from which, 
each after the other, the wretched pilgrims turned 
away and died, far from the refreshing fountain for 
which they pined. And the partner of that lone 
woman w^is away, bidding farewell to the old year, 
and welcoming the new, with the poisonous cup and 
the thoughtless toast, forgetting that every moment 
which floated bv bore its record with it. That mid- 
night scene might have been in the eye of the writer, 
who, in portraying such sorrow, says: — 

"Within a chamber, dull and dim, 

A pale, wan woman waits in vain 
Throuo;h the long; anxious hours for him. 

Away. In want and wasting pain, 
A babe upon her knee is pining; 



AUTOBIOGRArHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 187 

Its winning smiles all scared away; — 

She almost hopes the sun's next ray- 
May on its calm, cold corse be shining. 

Poor watcher! He comes not; she dreams, 
Perchance, of her old home ; and now, — 
Upstarting with a livid brow, — 

Clasps the babe closer to her breast, — 

That dying child, yet loved the best." 

But, lol a marvelous change has been effected. 
One evening when she was thus watching, her hus- 
band came home in a miserable state of intoxication. 
She bore all his ill-humor, — ay, even his brutality, — ^and 
tended him and cared for him, as only a woman can. 
Morning came, and still the half-stupefied drunkard 
lay on his bed ; but that day, salvation, in a temporal, 
if not in a higher and better sense, came to his house. 
The white-robed angel, temperance, went there an 
unbidden guest; kind words were spoken, — encour- 
agement was afforded, — the pledge was signed, — the 
fetters were broken! Oh, what a change! Smiles 
once more beamed on the wife's brow, and the home 
became a home indeed. 

Look at that man in the crowd, who is shouting 
with all his might, after the speaker has uttered some 
remark which makes the old ^'Cradle" rino- aorain with 
applause; his eye is bright, his complexion is clear, 
his step is firm, and his hand is steady. A cheerful 
looking woman is leaning on his arm, and well-dressed ; 
cleanly children are by them (the yoimgest is in its 
father's arms, crowino; and bawliuir witli the best of 
them). Can that be the man who heralded in the 
year with intemperate glee? and that the woman who 
sat desolate indeed in her wretched garret? and tliose 
the chiklren who were raiXD:ed and miserable? Yes! 



188 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

and temperance wrouglit the change. Oh, there were 
manj^ such trophies of its peaceful conquests in Fan- 
euil Hall that night! 

And I had my recollections, too, as I stood on that 
platform. What had I been, two years before ? Why, 
a houseless, homeless inebriate! Penniless, friendless, 
and almost hopeless ! Little recked I how the days, 
months, and years rolled on ; I seized the winged mo- 
ments as they p-assed, and plunged them into the 
maddening bowl. A comic song was my Christmas 
carol. The old year was dispatched with a Bacchana- 
lian glee, and the new one hailed with uproarious 
mirth. I scarcely took " note of time," even from its 
loss ; but by the grace of God a change had been ef- 
fected, and there I stood, on the last evening of eight- 
een hundred and forty-four, a humble monument of His 
mercy, feeling, as I trust I ever shall feel, that out of 
my utter weakness. He had in me perfected strength 
to stand up and be privileged to warn others of the 
dangers of indulging in that which intoxicates. 

Having received application and made an engage- 
ment to lecture in Philadelphia, under the auspices 
of the Pennsylvania State Temperance Society, and 
the direction of Leonard Jewell, Esq., I proceeded to 
that city, and by Mr. Jewell's judicious arrangement 
was enabled to fill a very pleasant engagement. And 
I have continued to visit the city of "brotherly love" 
from that time to this, with very great satisfaction^ 
and number as many and as true friends there as in 
any city in the Union. I delivered my first address 
on Sunday evening, the 5th of January, at the Rev. 
Mr. Ide's First Baptist Church, to a large audience; 
several placed their names on the pledge. On the 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN" B. GOUGH. 189 

MoncLay following, I spoke at the Eev. Mr. Stockton's 
church, but felt great difficulty in doing so, having 
taken a severe cold on my journey. My next ad- 
dress was given at the Rev. Albert Barnes' church, 
Washington Square, the largest in Philadelphia; it 
was crowded. Dr. Ely's church, in Buttonwood street, 
was open for me next evening; here again w^as a 
crowded congregation. My cold had now become so 
troublesome, that I announced I should not speak on 
the morrow; but, when the next evening arrived, 
several gentlemen so earnestly desired me to attend 
at Dr. Wiley's church, that I complied with their re- 
quest, and, although suffering much from cold, spoke 
for about an hour. On the following Sunday evening, 
I addressed the medical students who were in Phila- 
delphia, attending lectures at the various medical 
schools, at the Rev. Mr. Lord's church. In the after- 
noon of the day, I spoke to a large concourse of Sab- 
bath-school children, in Mr. Barnes' church, which, as 
well as Mr. Lord's church in the evening, was crowded 
to excess. 

On Monday evening, the 13th, there was an im- 
mense meeting in the saloon of the Chinese Museum. 
Some idea of the enthusiasm w^hich the cause excited, 
may be formed from a knowledge of the fact that 
two thousand three hundred tickets of admission, at 
twenty-five cents each, were sold, and that hundreds 
were unable to obtain admission. I spoke at this 
meeting, and much good seemed to be effected. The 
next day, I addressed a YGvy large audience at the 
Rev. Mr. Mason's Methodist Church. On Wednesday 
afternoon, — as many aged persons and invalids, who 
could not get out in the evening, had expressed a de- 



190 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN" B. GOUGH. 

sire to hear me, — I gave an address in Dr. McDowell's 
church, which was crowded. That afternoon two 
hundred and sixty persons signed the pledge. On 
Thursday evening, the 16th, the upper saloon of the 
Chinese Museum was filled to overflowing, at twenty- 
five cents per ticket, half of the proceeds being given 
to the poor. I shall never forget the kindness with 
which I was treated, and the encouragement I received 
in PhiladeljDhia from Eev. John Chambers, and many 
other true friends of the temperance cause. 

After leaving Philadelphia, I visited and spoke at 
Newark, in Dr. Eddy's church, and then proceeded to 
New York. On this occasion, myself and wife visited 
G. C. Eipley, Esq., at Brooklyn, and enjoyed some de- 
lightful intercourse with him and his family, as well as 
with our kind friend, Mr. Hurlbut, at whose house I 
remained during a former visit. 

At New York, I spoke on Sunday, the 19th, in the 
Rev. Mr. Smith's church, Rivington Street ; on Mon- 
day, at the Rev. Mr. Mason's, in Broome Street. On 
Tuesday, I accompanied Mr. Hurlbut and Mr. Ripley 
to Jamaica, where I spoke and enjoyed a pleasant 
season. On the morning of the 22d, I accompanied 
the Rev. Mr. Marsh to the State Convention at Tren- 
ton, and spoke before the Legislature in the evening. 
The next day, I went to New Brunswick, and, after 
speaking at Dr. Richard's church, obtained eighty-five 
names to the pledge, and returned to Brooklyn next 

dav. 

I next visited Patterson, and spoke there on Sun- 
day evening; two hundred names were affixed to the 
pledge. On my return to New York, I spoke at Dr. 
Skinner's church, more especially to the ladies, many 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. ] 91 

of whom signed the pledge. On the evening of Tues- 
day, the 28th, I delivered an address for the benefit of 
the Orphan jisylum, Brooklyn ; and the same evening 
spoke for a short time at the Broadway Tabernacle. 

I afterwards delivered two farewell addresses, one 
at the New York Tabernacle, and the other at Brook- 
lyn, and left for Boston on the last day of January. 
On Sunday evening, February 2d, I spoke at the 
Odeon ; at the upper town hall, Worcester, on Mon- 
day, the 3d ; at the State House, before the Legisla- 
ture, on Wednesday, the 5th ; and at Faneuil Hall on 
the 6th. On the 7th, I visited Concord, and gave an 
address at the opening of Shephard's temperance 
house there. On the evening of Sunday, the 9th, I 
spoke to a very full audience at the Tremont Temple^ 
and bade them farewell for some months. 

I spent several days in Virginia, speaking at Rich- 
mond. Eeturning, I continued, without intermission, 
my work in New York, New Jersey, Connecticut, Mass- 
achusetts, New Hampshire, and Rhode Island. I first 
visited Princeton on March 26th, of this year (1845), 
and there met Theodore L. Cuyler, then a theological 
student. A friendship was formed that has lasted, 
without a ripple of distrust or the lightest breath of 
suspicion, from that day to this, and I trust will con- 
tinue to all eternity. During this summer many in- 
cidents occurred, interesting to me, but not particu- 
larly so to others; and I pass them by. 

As I commenced with the introduction to niv origi- 
nal autobiography, I will here insert — before I pass to 
my personal experiences of the next few months — 
the concluding paragraphs of that work; as I there 
defined my position, from which 1 have never soon 



192 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

occasion to swerve, as time and experience have 
only convinced me that I held the true ground. 

Before I bid the reader farewell, — and it is high time that I should do 
so, having been so long "harping on one string," — I have but a few re- 
marks to make, which I trust will be received in the spirit in which 
they are offered. 

And, first, I would advert to a statement which has been made by 
certain parties, that I am no Washingtonian. Now, for what object 
such assertions have been industriously put forth, I am at a loss to de- 
termine ; but that such is the case I have been assured. In reply to 
the charge, — if charge it be, — I answer, that ever since I have been the 
public advocate of the temperance cause, I have enforced, as strongly 
as I possibly could, the necessity and policy of observing the law of 
kindness towards the unfortunate persons who have become the victims 
of intemperance. I have advocated moral suasion alone, and in its 
fullest extent, too, in the case of the drunkard. But with respect to 
the rum-seller, who sells that which causes his fellow-man to become an 
inebriate ; who, for the sake of acquiring wealth, places within a man's 
reach that which disqualifies him for exercising the reason with which 
his Maker endowed him, and reduces him to a grade far below the level 
of the beasts that perish ; who sells him that which unfits him for dis- 
charging the duties of a man and a citizen towards his family and his 
country, — I say, with respect to such a man, — who, when the startling 
truths of the case are pressed home to his heart and conscience, still 
persists in poisoning the streams of society, at their very fountain-head, — 
that different and more stringent measures should be adopted. 

In my opinion, — and I say it in all love to the rum-seller himself, — he 
should be prevented by the strong arm of the law from endangering, 
from merely mercenary motives, the peace, the prosperity, and the 
morals of the community at large. I will labor heart and hand with 
my fellow-men, in the attempt to rid our land of the monster, intemper- 
ance. Let those who advocate moral suasion alone, go only a part of 
the way with me in the crusade against it, if they will. As surely as 
effect follows cause, so certainly would drunkenness diminish and dis- 
appear altogether, if there were no drunkard-makers. My motto is, 
"Reform it altogether." Annihilate the traffic, and then, temptation 
removed, the poor inebriate would have no enemy left to vanquish, and 
be free indeed. 

If this be — as I believe it to be — a fair exposition of the Washing- 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 193 

tonian creed, tben am I a Washingtoaian. But still my own convic- 
tion remains, that moral suasion alone for the rum-sellor, would be as 
useless in the effort to remove drunkenness as it would be ridiculous to 
attempt to empty the ocean drop by drop. These are precisely my 
views to-day, and ever have been. 

In my narrative I have frequently adverted to the kindness of 
friends; some, in my days of adversity, showed me favors which I 
never shall forget while my heart continues to beat. It has been my 
happiness and privilege to be enabled to cancel every obligation which 
I contracted, so far as pecuniary matters are concerned ; but the debt 
of gratitude which I incurred in more than one instance, never can be 
repaid. To each and all who befriended me when there existed no 
earthly prospect of their kindness being requited, I shall ever feel 
indebted. 

To the press of Boston, and of the country generally, I am under 
large and lasting obligations, for the kind and indulgent manner in 
which my name has been so often mentioned; and I cannot suffer this 
opportunity of thanking the members of it, to pass by unheeded. 

And now, in reviewing all the ways in which the Lord hath led me, 
I feel, and would express, how much I owe to Him, by whose grace "I 
am what I am." Left alone and unprotected in a stranger land. He 
watched my footsteps and inclined my heart, in some degeee, to seek 
His face and favor ; but mysterious are the dealings of His providence. 
I was left to myself. Temptation assailed me^ and I fell, — oh, how 
low! Misery was my constant companion for many months; but deeply 
as I had sunk in the estimation of the world. One still watched my foot- 
steps, and preserved me from ruin, when trembling on the very verge 
of destruction. Then was His hand outstretched to save me, and life 
again seemed enlightened by God's approving smile. But I depended 
for support upon an arm of flesh, — on a broken reed; and the Almighty, 
in His infinite wisdom, saw fit to humble me into the very dust. He 
showed me that, without strength from on high, I was unequal to the 
conflict; and in the school of affliction, I trust He taught mo how 
feeble were my resolves, and how fruitless my endeavors, while I built 
my hopes upon aught below the skies. 

In my violation of the solemn pledge I feel a humble consciousness 
that He who doeth all things well, saw fit to abase mo, in onlor that 
every reliance . on self miglit be scattered to the winds, and my foot 
placed upon the "rock of ages," so that my goings might bo ostab- 



194 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOn:^' B. GOUGH. 

lisbed. I had failed to acknowledge Him in all my ways, and His 
hand mercifully interposed to cheek the growth of those seeds of pride 
and worldly wisdom which had begun to germinate and already threat- 
ened to choke the good seed which His grace had implanted. I trust 
that I recognized in this trial, the dealings of a merciful Father's hand ; 
and it is my fervent hope that, with whatever success He may be pleased 
to crown my labors, His may be all the glory. I would disclaim all 
power in and of myself, and desire earnestly the influences of His Holy 
Spirit, without which I feel I can do nothing. 

A few words, and I have done. This book may fall into the hands 
of young persons and Sabbath-school children. Oh, may it serve as a 
warning to young men! If they would be honorable, useful, and 
happy, I conjure them, by all that is holy, virtuous, and even what 
we call respectable, to "tarry not at the wine." God forbid that they 
should learn experience in the bitter school in which I was a scholar, 
and from which I was plucked as a "brand from the burning." I have 
not written these pages for the mere purpose of gratifying curiosity; a 
higher motive has, I trust, influenced me ; and oh, how happy should I 
be, in hearing, at some future period, that only one young man had 
been arrested in his fatal career. My hope is that this book will be 
useful. And if the blessing of God should follow a perusal of it, in 
but one case, I shall have reason for thankfulness that I penned it, 
through all eternity. 

Let Sabbath -school children remember, that I, like them, once list- 
ened to the kind instructions of a teacher (whom sixteen years after I 
accidentally met in Brooklyn, at a friend's house). Had an opportunity 
then been given me of signing the temperance pledge, the misery of a 
drunkard's feelings would, most probably, have been spared me. Let 
every child feel that, by signing that pledge, he cannot, if he sacredly 
adheres to it, ever become intoxicated. I pray God, that no Sabbath 
scholar, who reads my narrative, will ever feel in their own persons or 
experience, what it has been mine to endure. I shall now lay down 
my pen, humbly relying for aid in my future endeavors to stem the tide 
of intemperance, on Him, without whom all human effort is vain, and in 
whose strength we may fearlessly go forth to wage an exterminating 
was against all that is opposed to the coming of His glorious kingdom. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

Enmity to the Cause of Temperance — Accusations — Traps — Threaten- 
ing Letters — A Public Slander — Extract from Journal — Apology — 
Old Debts — Epithets — Charge of Drinking — Statement — Church Re- 
port — My Own Convictions — Kindness of Friends. 

This year (1845) was destined to be a severely try- 
ing and fearful one for me, and as I approach the 
history of the unfortunate calamity of the 5th of 
September, I involuntarily draw back with a shudder. 
In examining my scrap-book for the comments of the 
public press, I seem to live it all over again, — the 
distress, the agony of the terrible ordeal through 
which I passed. No apology is needed for introduc- 
ing the subject here, as it is a part of my personal 
recollections, — and bitter they are ; yet at this time, 
looking over the long stretch of twenty-five years, I 
deem it but just to myself, that some statements 
should be made, which I think, looking calmly at the 
whole matter now, bear somewhat on the mystery 
that surrounded that transaction, and which, probably, 
will never be satisfactorily cleared up in this world. 

It Can hardly be supposed that I should have 
labored in the cause of temperance, warring against 
appetite, interest, old established customs, and touch- 
ing men's prejudices, without exciting enmity. This 
enmity was developed at a very early stage of my 
public labor. I had been accused of repeatedly break- 



196 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHI^" B. GOUGH. 

ing ray pledge ; and when on my return from my 
Western tour, in 1844, I made a speech, in which I 
was reported to have said, that " Washingtonianism 
was dead, that infidelity had killed it, and that it was 
powerless as an engine for the promotion of temper- 
ance," — a very severe article appeared in a temper- 
ance paper, accusing me, indirectly, of being the tool 
of others in attacking Washingtonianism, — the main 
principle of which was moral suasion, pure and en- 
tire, forbidding all recourse to law. I replied by a 
note, that the statement was made to me, by a gen- 
tleman, in reference to the cause in Western New 
York. That seemed to settle the matter for a time; 
but I was soon called to account for introducing or- 
thodoxy in temperance lectures; soon after, a certain 
class of persons arrayed themselves against me, nor 
do I deny them the right to do so. Every man has 
a right to his own opinion, and an equal right to ex- 
press it. The most bitter opposition I experienced 
at this time, was from a certain class of liquor sellers, 
some of whom threatened me. Traps were laid for 
me. I narrowly escaped being drawn into an im- 
proper place, by a letter purporting to come from a 
heart-broken mother, requesting me to call and see 
her son. 

I have in my possession threatening letters; one 
man declared that "a ring was being prepared for my 
nose," and curses loud and deep were hurled at me. 
On one occasion I had offended a man in Norwich, by 
relating a fact told me by the mother of a young 
man he had tempted to his ruin and death; and this 
man followed me for several days, declaring he would 
have my life, if he had to wait ten years. 



AUTOBIOGRAPnY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 197 

There were constant reports of my drinking to in- 
toxication; and as I look over the records, I am as- 
tonished at the epithets hurled at me, — "hypocrite," 
" liar," " swindler," " drunkard," and worse ; these 
things were very hard to bear, and my accusers grew 
bolder, till at length a statement was publicly made 
by a man of position, and I determined to put a stop 
to this wholesale slandering, by the aid of the law; 
and I give an article, from the "Boston Mercantile 
Journal" of May 10th, 1845, which will explain the 
whole case. I omit name of the place and persons. 

A BASE SLANDER RETRACTED. 
The able and worthy temperance lecturer, John B. Gough, recently 
visited N., and delivered a temperance lecture there on Monday evening, 
which was listened to with much interest by a large audience, and pro- 
duced an excellent effect. Mr. Gougb quietly returned to the city on 
Tuesday, and must have been electrified on the following day to learn 
from friends in N. that a story had been generally circulated in that 
town seriously injuring his character as an advocate of total abstinence ; 
and, if true, would justly deprive him of the confidence and respect of all 
good men. It was stated, on the authority of Mr. D. and his son, who 
kept a refreshment shop in the neighborhood of the depot, that Mr. Gough, 
on the morning ere he left N., came into his shop and called for a glass of 
strong heer, and dranh it there. This statement, coming from so direct a 
source, was soon generally circulated, and as Mr. D. was a professedly pious 
man, was, of course, calculated to make the true friends of temperance feel 
anxious, — as, if true, it would show that Mr. Gough was unworthy of their 
confidence; and, if false, the lie should be contradicted before his influ- 
ence could be diminished. Mr. Gouoh has suffered much from the arrows 
of detraction. No means have been left untried, on the part of his ene- 
mies, to ruin his character and destroy his usefulness; and, conscious of 
his innocence, he determined to prosecute the matter to the bottom. Ho 
has done this, and the result may be seen in the following apology from 
the individual who first gave circulation to the calumniating story : — 

APOLOGY. 
I, J. I. D., having propauntod a roiiort rcspooting ^Ir. John B. Gough of 
Boston, to the cllbct that ho (jMr. Gough) drank s^trong heer at my store at X., 
13 



198 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

on the 6tli of May instant, I desire to fully retract the same, and to apologize 
for the course I have taken, and to expressly state that Mr. Gough never was 
in my store ; that I must have known it, if such had been the case, I having 
seen and heard Mr. Gough lectm*e on the previous evening. And I hereby 
return my thanks to Mr. Gough for his consenting to forego the legal proceed- 
ings wliich he had instituted against me. [Signed] J. I. D. 

N , May 9, 1845. 

Witnesses, D. D. of N. 

J. D. K. of B. 

It is hardly necessary to state that Mr. D. was willing to defray the 
expenses of all the incipient legal proceedings which had been taken in 
the matter, amounting to fifty dollars. And we learn, with much 
satisfaction, that Mr. Gough is now determined to adopt the advice of 
his friends ; and in all attempts to blacken his character, or accusations 
for having violated his pledge since he signed it, on the 1st of May, 
1843, he is determined to shield himself behind the laws of the country, 
which will ever present an aegis against the an'ows of calumny. There 
is no character more detestable, cowardly, or dangerous, than that of a 
slanderer. He is a *' walking pestilence that doth infect the wind." 

This seemed to still the voice of calumny for a 
wliile; but in the mean-time a report was in circula- 
tion that I refused to pay my debts in New bury port, 
where I had lived some six years before. To put a 
stop to this, I inserted the following notice in the 
" Ne wburyport Herald : " — 

NOTICE. 

To all whom it may concern. Having heard that it has been stated 
in the town of Newburyport that various persons there have accounts 
against me, and as I am not aware that such is the case, — I having on 
various occasions made a public request that all claims against me 
should be sent in for settlement, — this is to give notice, that I shall be 
at Mr. John G. Tilton's bookstore, in Newburyport, on Wednesday, May 
15th ; when I shall be prepared to pay any legal demand which may be 
had against me, and, as I have in more than one instance paid debts 
twice, I shall require full proof of each and every claim. 

Boston, May 9, 1845. John B. Gough. 

I accordingly went to Newburyport and examined 
every claim against me , for some of them I had re- 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOH^ B. GOUGH. 199 

ceipts^ and all that I considered genuine, I paid. It 
must be remembered that at this time I was struo;- 
gling to free myself of debt, and accomplishing it as 
fast as I could. 

Then, attacks came on me that I was exciting sym- 
pathy by whining and canting about persecution, — 
in fact, though I had many and true friends, there 
was a class of men who were wonderfully vindictive, 
and spared no pains to annoy me. My friends were 
really more anxious than I was; though I felt these 
things keenly, I did not suppose they would proceed 
to active violence ; and while many of my friends 
were really solicitous on my account, I dreamed of no 
positive danger. 

A pamphlet had been published by a reverend gen- 
tleman of New York, entitled, "Echo of truth to 
the voice of slander," accusing me of slandering the 
family who brought me to this country. I think he 
might have written this under a misapprehension, — 
and I hioio he was misinformed, — but this pamphlet 
was industriously circulated, and caused me a great 
deal of trouble. I replied to it, and that matter soon 
settled down, and I have been for many years in 
correspondence and on friendly terms with the family 
. whom I was alleged to have slandered. 

I make no complaint of severe and adverse criti- 
cism. My style, the subject-matter of ni}^ addresses, 
my gestures, all my defects as a speaker, — and I know 
tliey are mtiny, — are all legitimate subjects for criti- 
cism and comment ; even my personal appearance and 
dress may be held up to ridicule, and no great harm 
done. I have been called a "humbuo-," a '-theatrical 
performer," a " mountebank," a " ck)wn;' a " buf- 



200 AUTOBIOGKAPHT OF J0H:N' B. GOUGH. 

foon," ^^ ungraceful/' ^^homelj/' "round-slioulderecl." 
I have been accused of liavino; ^^ crooked leo;s," of 
"wearing long liair," of "wearing jewelry," of having 
a ^^ sensual mouth;" my lectures have been called 
^4diotic ravings/' a "rehash of other people's 
thoughts/' "'balderdash/' "insane bellowings/' and 
other statements of like character too numerous to 
mention ; but none of these things troubled me, be- 
yond the temporary annoyance that any man feels at 
expressions of contempt; but such terms as "hypo- 
crite/' " mercenary scoundrel/' "consummate villain/' 
"base slanderer/' "liar/' "drunkard/' "unchaste/' touch 
the moral character. 

Those especially who do not like me, have, up to 
the present time, constantly accused me of drinking. 
I have often pondered on this, and asked why is it? 
It cannot be because I am a public man, for other 
public men escape such attacks; other men strike 
heav}^ blows at old established, cherished usages, and 
are not vilified as I have been. The documents are 
before me, and they are ^^ositively frightful; and were 
I the consummate scoundrel I have been represented, 
I should contaminate the inmates of any state prison 
in the countrj^ The reason why an enemy will at 
once, either directly or indirectly, accuse me of drink- 
ing, is that my early history is well known and will 
never be forgotten; early dissipation will be connected 
with the name of John B. Gouo-h as Ions: as his name 
is remembered. This is the price I must pay for the 
sins and errors of years ago: "Whatsoever a man 
soweth, that shall he also reap." 

A long time ago I stained and blotted and marred 
many fair pages in the book of my life ; the stains are 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOU^ B. GOUGH. 201 

there 7iow; though many pages have been turned 
since then, yet the book is for inspection, and any 
man can turn to the blotted pages, and pointing to 
them sav, " Behold his record !" And what is more bit- 
ter, more stinging, when a man has carefully striven, 
and is striving, to live down the past, than to know 
that the record is read, and can be used as a weapon 
for wounding his tenderest sensibilities? Eemember, 
I do not complain of this ; I only say it is so, — and 
.would warn the young man in the outset of life : Keep 
the page clean, for you can neither seal the book nor 
remove the stains, and jour sins will be remembered 
while you live, and your enemies gain a great advan- 
tage, at your cost and suffering. Thank God ! He has 
promised "your sins will I remember no more against 
you forever." "I, even I, am He that hlotieth out 
thine iniquities." 

I will now give the statement, published twenty- 
five years ago; and after that lapse of time, I see no 
reason to alter or modify any expression then used. 
For brevity's sake I will condense the statement, 
retaining all the facts of the case. 

STATEMENT. 

Mount Pleasant, Roxbury, Mass., | 
September 22, 1845. j 

Although very weak and worn with intense suffering in body and 
mind, yet I will delay no longer doing that which I have ever intended 
as soon as practicable to do; viz., to give a plain statement of foots 
relative to the unhappy circumstances in which I have been placed 
within the past few weeks. I left home on jMonday, the 1st instant, in 
company with Deacon Grant of Boston, and Mr. Cyrus E. IMoi-se; 
spoke in AVestborough in the evening ; went the next day to Spring- 
field, and on the od, attended a convention at Blandford : spoke 
three times that day; spoke twice on the 4th, at Westfield : took 
leave of Deacon Grant and lady, and left in the morning for Spring- 



202 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

field, in company with Mr. Morse, — ^he to go to Boston, and I to take 
the cars for New York. I sent a letter to my wife by IMr. Morse, of 
which the following is an extract: "I hope to meet you on Monday 
evening. If I did not feel that the duty of finally arranging matters 
for the winter demanded my presence in New York, I would come 
home with Cyrus ; but I hope to spend a pleasant and profitable Sab- 
bath in Brooklyn. I shall think of you," etc., etc. My reason for 
going to New York was to make a final arrangement for part of my 
time, and what part this coming winter. I was to be in Montreal on 
the 11th inst. I agreed to meet my wife and a gentleman who was to 
accompany us to Montreal, at Albany, on Monday evening, September 
8th. I arrived at New York at six or half-past six, on Friday, the 
5th inst. ; left my baggage with a porter on board the boat to bring 
after me, and walked to the Croton Hotel. I took tea; my baggage 
arrived ; I procured a room, went into it, arranged my dress, told them 
there that I was going to Brooklyn, and might not return that night. 
I have always been made welcome at my friends in Brooklyn, and I 
knew that if they were not full, I should be invited to stay all night. 
About half-past seven or eight, I left the Croton, called at a store in 
Broadway, and purchased a watch-guard; went to the store of Messrs. 
Sexton & Miles; stayed there a few minutes. On coming out, I had 
not gone a dozen steps before I was accosted by a man, with, "How do 
you do, Mr. Gough?" 

^.aidl: "You have the advantage of me; I am introduced to so 
many, that it is difficult for me sometimes to recognize them." 

Said he: "My name is Williams, — Jonathan Williams. I used 
to work in the same shop with you in this city, a good many years 
ago." 

I replied : "I do not remember it ; " or something to that effect. 

He then said : " You have got into a new business^ — the ' temperance 
business.' Do vou find it a good business? " 

" Oh, yes," I told him ; " I find it a very good business." 

Some other conversation ensued, during which time we were walkings 
slowly together, when he said : "I suppose you are so pious now, and 
have got to be so proud, that you would not drink a glass of soda with 
an old shopmate!" 

"Oh, yes, I would drink a glass of soda with anybody; I will drink 
a glass with you, if you will go in here." . 

We were then opposite to Thompson's. There were, I should think, 
ten or twelve persons round the fountain, when he said: ''We shall 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHIST B. GOUGH. 203 

never get served here ; I know a place where* we can get better soda 
than we can here." 

We then crossed the street, and went down Chambers Street to 
Chatham Street, till we came to a small shop. Having no suspicions, 
I did not take particular notice of what kind of a shop it was; but I 
saw confectionery, and a pasteboard sign with "Best Soda" on it. 
There are two or three of these establishments in that vicinity ; owing 
to my weakness, I did not visit the place previous to my leaving New 
York, but I have no doubt that I can identify the shop among the 
others. This man called for soda ; asked me what syrup I used ; said 
he used raspberry, — I am pretty sure he said raspberry. I said I 
would take some of the same. 

The syrup was poured out, and the soda poured into it from the 
fountain. The fountain was of a dark color. This man took my glass, 
and handed it to me with his hand over the top of the glass. I noticed 
his hand, because I thought it was not a very gentlemanly way of hand- 
ing a glass ; however, I thought no more, but drank it. We then went 
into Chambers Street again, and up to Broadway, together, when he 
left me. Soon after he left me I felt a warm sensation about the lungs 
and chest, with unusual exhilaration, and, for the first time, I began to 
suspect that it was not all right. This feeling increased, till I felt 
completely bewildered with the desire for something, I know not what. 
I do not know that I ever felt so strangely in my life before. I do not 
know how long I walked, but must have walked some distance, as I 
have some recollection of seeing the new white church at the upper end 
of Broadway. During this time, I went into a grocery store and got 
some brandy, — I do not know where, or whether I paid for it, — but 
I recollect drinking. I became, after a little while, bewildered and 
stupid, and had wandered, I do not know where, when I saw a woman 
dressed in black. I either accosted her or she accosted me, — it is im- 
material which, as I was in such a state tliat I should not have waited to 
•think who it was. I do not remember what I said ; but she told some 
gentleman, who went to make inquiries, that I asked her if she could 
give me a night's lodging, or tell me wliore I could procure one, as I 
was without friends, etc. She took me into the house. How 1 got in 
I do not know. There was a flight of stairs; but I have no recollec- 
tion of going up those stairs, I remember nothing distinctly tliat 
passed during the whole time, till I was taken away, except that I 
drank ; but what I drank, or how much, or how often, I know nothing 
of. I have some idea that a man came there while I was there ; bo- 



204 AUTOBIOGEx\PnT OF JOH^ B. GOUGH. 

cause I felt afraid of him. I have no recollection of going out at all, 
after I first went in on Friday evening ; although it is said that I was 
seen on Saturday evening. I have no recollection either of going out 
or coming in ; and if I did it, I don't know how I did it. I have no 
recollection of eating at all; although the woman told that I did eat, 
and asked a blessing; and also that I prayed. I have no remembrance 
of this. I do not remember purchasing a shirt, although I had a 
strange shirt on me when I was taken away. 

The time that I spent in that place seems to me like a horrible 
dream, — a nightmare, — a something that I cannot describe. I have so 
little recollection of what transpired, that when I came out, I could not 
tell, for my life, how long I had been there, and was astounded when 
I found that I had been there so long. When Mr. Camp came into the 
house, I remember that I felt as if relief had come, and I said to 
him, "Oh, take me away from this ! " I felt glad that some one had 
come. 

He asked me how I came there. I told him a man had put some- 
thing in a glass of soda which had crazed me. lie asked me his name. 
I gave it to him as he gave it to me, as near as I can recollect. 
Another man came in with Mr. Camp; then Mr. Hayes came in, and 
took me in a carriage to Mr. Hurlbut's "house, where I received the 
kindest care and attention during the most severe trial of bodily suf- 
fering and mental agony I ever experienced in my life. During the 
whole of my sickness I did not call for liquor, nor do I remember that 
I felt any desire or craving for it. 

Who this Jonathan Williams is, I do not know. I do not remember 
ever working with him, and I told him so. I know not whether that is 
his right name. I have my suspicions that he came into the city the 
same nio-ht that I did, and left soon after the Fridav that I was found : 
and that the whole thing- was arranged before he accosted me. How- 
ever it be, I feel that the whole matter will yet be made plain ; that by 
some means or other, in the providence of God, the truth of my state- 
ment respecting this man will be made as clear as the sun. May God 
forgive him for the wrong he has done me. 

With regard to the house in which I was found, it is said to be a 
house of ill-fame. I have understood that it was not ; but be that as 
it may, had it been the most notorious house in the city, and I had 
seen one of its inmates, being in the state that I was in when I met 
this woman, I should have gone with her. I had no intention of going 
to such a house ; all I wanted was rest ; and I have every reason to be- 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGII. 



205 



lieve that I should have asked no questions or made no ohjections to 
any place. And now, in view of the past, I can say with Job : "For 
the thing which I greatly feared has come upon me ; and that of which 
I was afraid is come unto me." 

I have fallen ! and, keenly feeling this, I am willing to lie prostrate 
in the dust, where this fall has put me. I do not presume to say that 
I am not to blame. I was to blame, in going wath a stranger ; but 
when he spoke of my being too proud, I do not know but I would have 
gone anywhere with him. But still I was to blame. I may be con- 
sidered also to blame for getting that brandy, — giving way to my desires 
for it; but if bitter tears of repentaace and earnest prayers for for- 
giveness for that of which I might have been guilty while under strong 
excitement, will avail through the mercy of Christ, I shall be forgiven. 

To the temperance friends I am willing to bow ; I am willing to be 
called the meanest of all engaged in the great cause ; I am willing to 
bear with meekness their censure. To my brethren in the church,- — I 
am willing that they should do with me and by me as they in their 
judgment may decide ; submitting to them in all things, as they will. 
To those who may be prejudiced against me, — I blame you not for dis- 
believing my statement ; I blame you not for all that you may say 
against me. By God's help, I will endeavor so to live that you will re- 
spect me, and by more earnest prayer and watchfulness so to maintain 
my integrity that I shall win your confidence. To those editors of pa- 
pers who have mentioned my sad case with sympathy and consideration, 
I can say that gratitude is a little word for my feelings towards you. 

In the bitter cup there are some mercy-drops : my life is spared ; my 
reason is spared ; the hearts of my friends are not shut up against me. 
For these mercies I trust I feel thankful ; and whatever may be my 
future situation in life, I pray God that I may so live as to honor the 
profession that I have made; that I may be more humble, feel more 
my dependence on God, and by His grace become a more firm, con- 
sistent, uncompromising foe to strong drink in all its forms, than I ever 
Lave been before. 

I might write much more; but I do not think it necessary. 

I should have prepared this before, but wished to write ovory word 
myself, and sign my name. I have been, and still am, very weak and 
feeble. 

This is the only statement that has ever been put fortli in writing by 
mo, and I leave it with the public. May God assist thon\ to judge 



ariirht in the matter ! 



J. 1). GoiGii. 



206 AUTOBIOGEAPHT OF JOHIT B. GOUGH. 

The Committee of the Mount Vernon Church, of 

which Eev. Dr. E. N. Kirk is pastor, and where my 

wife and I were, and are, communicants, published 

the following — 

REPORT. 

At a regular meeting of the Mount Yernon Congregational Church, 
Boston, holden at their chapel on Friday evening, October 31, 1845, , 
the examining committee, agreeably to their instructions, presented a 
report on the case of our brother, John B. Gough, as follows, to wit: — 

The undersigned, appointed by the examining committee, September 
17, 1845, to investigate the circumstances connected with the case of , 
our brother, John B. Gough, and report the facts, so far as they could 
ascertain them, to the church, submit the following as the result of their 
inquiries : — 

On the 19 th of September, Brother Gough returned to his residence 
in Roxbury, and on the 22d, the committee had an interview with him, 
in which he related the circumstances of his case, as given in detail 
in his statement, which has been published, and which was read in the 
ohurch-meeting, September 26, when, by a formal vote, the examining 
committee were instructed to inquire thoroughly into the case. Since 
the publication of this statement, more than a month ago, the committee 
have improved every opportunity to elicit facts which might confirm or 
contradict it. With this end. New York has been visited; where, com- 
mencing at the Croton Hotel, by an interview with its gentlemanly pro-* 
prietor, the investigation was pursued to Thompson's, where, as is 
represented, they first stopped for soda ; through Broadway and Cham- 
bers Street, to the shop in which it was probably drank; then, in com- 
pany with Officer Hayes, to the house in Walker Street, with as full 
an examination into the circumstances of his connection with that 
dwelling, and his rescue fi*om it, as could be made by conversation 
with the women who inhabit it, and the officer who conveyed him to 
the hospitable mansion of Mr. Hurlbut, at Brooklyn. That gentleman, 
who so humanely nursed and sheltered him, made a minute statement 
of the manner in which he was brought to his dwellino;, the state he 
was in while there, and his condition on leaving. The physician who 
attended him through his sickness at Brooklyn very kindly communi- 
cated his view of the case while under his care, with the symptoms of 
his disease, and mode of treatment. Three or four other gentlemen, 
who had taken a deep interest in the matter, and been at great pains to 



AUTOBIOGEAPHT OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 207 

ascertain the facts, were called on and conversed with. From all that 
could be gathered in these various ways, by an examination as thorough 
and impartial as could be made, the committee are constrained to be- 
lieve that the published statement of Brother Gough is a frank and art- 
less declaration of the truth. This opinion is confirmed by the inter- 
views we have had with him and his physician during his sickness at 
Roxbury. 

There are indeed difficulties in coming to this conclusion, and the 
case must yet remain in some degree of mystery. Still, the fact that 
an account of the aifair going so much into detail should have been so 
extensively read and criticised for more than a month, and that none of 
his enemies even have been able to contradict it in a single particular, 
is strong presumptive evidence of its truth. 

Assuming then, — as the committee are prepared to do, — the truth 
of this published statement, is the position of our Brother Gough, as 
presented therein, such a one as requires any censure from the church ? 
A man of more prudence would have hesitated before drinking soda 
with a stranger ; a man whose habits in early life had always been regu- 
lar and temperate, might not have been stimulated to madness by such a 
libation ; and a man of less nervous temperament might have found 
some lucid moments for reflection during such a week of horrid aberra- 
tion of mind. But, in judging of the moral character of the conduct 
of another, our decision must be regulated by what we know of the 
physical propensities and natural temperament of his particular consti- 
tution. With such allowance, then, as Christian charity requires us to 
;make on this score to all, we are brought to the conclusion that there 
has been nothing in this unhappy affair which ought to affect the stand- 
ing of our Brother Gough as a member of the Church of Christ. His 
apparent remorse, and earnest prayer for forgiveness for that of which 
he might have been guilty while under strong excitement, are not in- 
consistent, we think, with the idea that he is free from voluntary crime 
in the matter. To have fallen by any means from the enviable position 
in which Brother Gough stood before the public previous to this occur- 
rence, might have involved in the deepest humiliation a mind less sen- 
sitive than his. To awake, as from a nightmare, with a vague recollec- 
tion of having passed through scenes which, in former days, had been 
connected with guilt and shame, would naturally inflict upon any tender 
conscience the sting of remorse. 

In conclusion, the connnittec are of the opinion that no action of the 
church is demanded in relation to the matter; and they commend to 



208 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

the continued confidence and sympathy of his brethren, one whom God 
has heretofore honored as an instrument of doing; much to withstand 
the progress of sin, and who now has been permitted to fall into fiery 
trials which, we trust, may but fit him more perfectly to serve his Mas- 
ter on earth or in heaven. Daniel Saffgrd. 

Julius A. Palmer. 

Boston, October 29, 1845. 
The above report having been read, was, by an unanimous vote, ac- 
cepted, and the clerk directed to furnish Mr. Gough with an attested copy. 
A true copy, — Attest, Albert Hobart, Clerk. 

This is the painful record which I should have been 
glad to omit^ and^ consulting my own feelings, would 
desire that the waters of oblivion should roll over the 
whole transaction. Not that I condemn myself for 
any willful wrong-doing. I can truly say, at this dis- 
tance of time, that I do not consider I was guilty of 
any moral obliquity. I know others may have judged 
and will judge differently; but 7, knowing all the 
facts, and suffering all the consequences, will not con- 
fess guilt such as many attributed to me. My error 
was want of caution in not heedino; the w^arnino; of 
friends, and the threats of enemies, who — I can prove* 
— boasted openly that they would trap me yet; and 
in accompanying a stranger, as I did. But I must 
acknowledge that I had no conception men could 
prove so devilish in their malice. The record is made 
permanent; there let it stand; and with it, my pro- 
.test against condemnation. I therefore offer no ex- 
cuses. But I must here say, that, as I look over the 
book containing letters I received at that time, so full 
of Christian tenderness and loving sympathy, my 
eyes fill, and my heart swells with gratitude and love 
to the many, the very many, of the good, the noble, 



AUTOBIOGEAPEY OF JOH:f;r B. GOUGH, 209 

the true, who sheltered me m that day of tempest; 
defended me in that day of terrible attack; gave me 
their sympathy, more precious than water to a thirsty 
soul. I cannot enumerate them; but will say that 
now, with twenty-five years stretching between that 
time and this, not one of them is forgotten; and I 
remember that not a cup of cold water given in His 
name, shall lose its reward. 

And thus, filled with gratitude, I turn away from 
the recollection of the fierce and unmerciful on- 
slaught made on me at that time, by those who be- 
lieved of me all that was vile, and who showed me 
no mercy. How George Hurlbut,* George C. Eipley, 
Rev. T. L. Cuyler, W. H. Dikeman, my own dear pas- 
tor (Dr. Kirk of Boston), my church, and hosts of 
others, stood by me in the fire, and comforted me; 
how the press of the country, with some exceptions, 
either stated my case fairly, or defended me, — it 
would not be wise to enlarge on, or particularize. 

But before I pass on, I must place on record here 
the unfailing devotion of one, whose faith in me never 
wavered, whose confidence was unshaken, whose per- 
fect trust was never dimmed by a shadow of suspicion, 
and from whom I derived more comfort, strength, and 
encouragement, than from any other human source. 
How tenderly did she nurse me, through the long ill- 
ness that succeeded my rescue ! How indignant at 
every fresh attack on me ! How she shielded me with 
her fearless and judicious defense, and comforted me 

* It was to the house of George Ilurlbut, in Brooklyn, tliat I Avas taken from 
Walker Street; and should I exhaust the vocabulary of the Knglish language, 
I could not find words to express my gratitude to him and his noble wife, for 
their kind treatment of me, during the week I was with them. There are 
deeds of kindness beyond the power of words to describe. 



210 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

by lier loving and thoughtful tenderness ! She knew 
me, and trusted me fully, absolutely, perfectly ; and 
from that day to this, not one syllable of doubt has 
passed her lips, nor a thought of distrust entered her 
heart. Had it not been so, I could never have 
fought the battle ; and I can truly say that I owe 
much, very much, of what good I have been able to 
accomplish; to my true, faithful, loving wife. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

Severe Illness — " Goiighiana " — Speeches in Boston, Worcester, New- 
buryport, Dedham, New York, and Virginia — Woman Sold — Boston 
— Return to Virginia — Speech on Liquor Traffic — Night Serenade — 
A Crowd — Abolitionist — Work Continued — Brain-Fever — Recovery 
— News of my Father — Address to Colored People — Their Singing — 
Prayers — Return Home — Extract from my Father's Letter. 

A LONG and tedious illness followed these events^ 
and for weeks my life was despaired of; but with ten- 
der nursing, and the skillful treatment of Dr. Winship, 
by God's blessing, I recovered. During all this time, 
I received constant communications, though I was not 
permitted to see them in the w^orst period of my ill- 
ness ; — letters full of sympathy from friends, — wdth 
some threatening and scurrilous, many anonymous, 
and occasionally an attempt to levy black-mail. This 
was tried several times on my friends. The pretence 
was that they were in possession of facts that would 
seriously damage me with the public, if known, and 
for a certain sum they w^ould be suppressed. To all 
' these attempts, there was but one reply from my 
friends and myself: — we want facts; we are seeking 
facts ; let us have flxcts. A man whom I had helped, 
and for whom I had paid monej^, that he might be 
carefully nursed during dcUrhmi tremens, wrote a 
pamphlet entitled, "Goughiana," — a very scurriknis 
affair; and I have in my possession one of the hitters 
which were written to him, to induce him to do it. 



212 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JQHiq" B. GOUGH. 

bearing the writer's name. One sentence in this let- 
ter is: "You shake Gough, and old Deacon Grant 
with him, out of their stockings. I will see you free 
from all harm, — but I must not be known in the mat- 
ter, — and you shall be well paid for your services." 

On the 4th of December I was able to ride to Bos- 
ton, to attend a meeting at which Rev. Mr. Spencer, 
from England, w^as to speak. I was called for, and 
made a few remarks, — the first words I had spoken in 
public since September 4th. On the 17th, I attended 
the Bristol County Convention, and spoke twice ; at 
Worcester on the 23d ; in the Tremont Temple, Bos- 
ton, .on the 25th and 28th; Newburyport, the 29th; 
and Dedham on the 30th ; — thus ending the eventful 
and trying year of 1845. I commenced the new 
year by a lecture in Boston, at the Tremont Temple, 
on January 1st, as a farewell, previous to a Southern 
trip. On the 20th of January, I was appointed to 
speak in New York, at the Tabernacle. Opposition 
was expected, and slightly manifested. Hon. James 
Harper presided; Rev. Dr. Patten introduced me. 
The success of that meeting was largely attributed to 
the energy and judgment of W. H. Dikeman and his 
famil}'. My home in New York has been for years 
at their house. I spoke in Brooklyn and Princeton ; 
then passed on to Philadelphia, where I held large 
meetings under the auspices of the "Ladies' Temper- 
ance Union." At the first meeting, Rev. Dr. Cuyler 
opened with prayer, and Rev. John Chambers intro- 
duced me. During my stay in the city I held six 
meetings, one of which was for young men, princir 
pally medical students. The "North American" said 
of it : "It was one of the largest assemblages of men 



AUTOBlbGRAPHT OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 213 

we have ever seen in the building. There were be- 
tween three and four thousand." 

I could fill this book with the records of kind- 
ness shown me here, and in other places ; but as 
they would not be interesting to the general reader, 
I will just state I passed on through Baltimore 
and Washington, to Richmond, having accepted an 
invitation ^rom John H. Cocke, Esq., of Fluvanna 
County, to spend some weeks in that State. Our 
head-quarters were at his house at Seven-Islands. I 
visited many towns in the Old Dominion, speaking 
almost constantly, though at times very weak, and far 
from being well. My principal work was in Rich- 
mond, Petersburg, Norfolk, and Portsmouth. It was 
in Norfolk I first saw a woman sold. Passing through 
the market, I saw a crowd surrounding a middle-aged 
colored woman, who stood on a barrel, the auctioneer 
below her. I stopped to hear : " Two hundred and 
thirty dollars, two-thirty; thirty, thirty, going; two- 
thirty, going, going, — gone!" Yes! there stood a 
woman, one of God's creatures, a wife and mother, 
with arms folded, and the tears silently rolling down 
her cheeks, as she quietly and meekly turned at the 
bidding of the gentlemen (?) who surrounded her, to 
show her arms, her shape, her breast, her teeth, — till 
the sale was accomplished, and the poor creature 
stepped down from her position before the crowd, — 
transferred from one owner to another, body, mind, 
and soul, for two hundred and thirty dollars. I turned 
to William Reid and said, "That's the most damnable 
sight ever seen in a Christian country." I was told, I 
must not say that, and was hurried away. All thanks 
to our God that such a scene can never be witnessed 
U 



214 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

on our continent again forever! And let all the people 
say, Amen! 

I passed on to Fredericksburg, to Washington, and 
home, under engagements to return to Virginia in 
June. After lecturing in Boston several times, and 
in other places in Massachusetts, I returned to Vir- 
ginia, speaking in Fredericksburg the 20th of June; 
then on to Richmond, en route for Lynchb^urg, where 
I had an invitation, signed by the mayor and one 
hundred citizens, to deliver ten lectures there. On 
Sunday evening, I spoke very freely on the liquor 
traffic, and on Monday night about eleven o'clock, I 
was serenaded. The instruments were, a brass horn, 
a tin pan, a triangle, a piece of sheet iron, an old fid- 
dle; and one man did the swearing for the party. 
Looking out of the window, I saw a group of men, 
and being very angry, I seized a tumbler from the 
table and threw it at them. Had they played a tune, 
however execrably, I could have borne it; but that 
abominable see-saw, tink-tink, drove me almost wild. 
I was kept awake nearly all night. In the morning 
I was passing down the street, when I was informed 
that four men had been arrested for disturbing the 
peace, and were having a hearing at the Court House. 
I went there, and found quite an excited crowd. As 
I was entering the Court House, a man addressed me : 

"I want to see you." 

I said, "You can see me." 

" Come this way," he replied. 

I went down through the crowd, and stood just be- 
low the curb-stone, he standing on it. Looking down 
at me, he asked, " What did you throw a tumbler at 
me for last night?" 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 215 

I said, " Did the tumbler hit you ? " 

" That is nothing to do with it. What did you throw 
that tumbler at me for ? " 

I asked him, "Where was you when the tumbler 
was thrown at you ? " 

" That is none of your business." 

" Then it is none of your business why or whether 
I threw a tumbler at you." 

There was by this time a large crowd gathered 
round me, and I began to feel a little uneasy, when 
one man said, "Hit him, Harris." 

I must confess that as I looked up at the man who 
stood with clenched fist, I began to imagine how I 
should feel when it was dashed in my face ; for I ex- 
pected it, and wished myself in some better and 
quieter place. Then I heard: "Tie him up, and give 
him thirty-nine lashes." "Run him into the river up 
to his neck." " He's a d -d abolitionist." 

I assure you, when I heard that "mad dog" cry, 
abolitionist, uttered against me, in the heart of a 
fierce crowd, in the city of Lynchburg, I was far from 
comfortable. 

"You sha'n't speak again here," said a fellow in the 
crowd. 

I suppose my courage was like the rat's, that will 
run if he can, but when driven into a corner, will 
fight. I certainly would have run if T could ; but as 
that was out of the question, the next best thing was, 
to put as bold a face on it as I could, so I said : " I 
shall speak here again; I shall lecture in the Meth- 
odist Church at half-past seven this evening, on the 
subject of temperance!" 

After a short time the crowd 2:ave wav, and 1 was 



216 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHX B. GOUGH. 

left free to go, contrary to my expectation, without 
receiving a blow. I w^as told afterwards that I had 
many friends in the crowd, and if I had been struck 
there would have been a terrible fight. Providentially, 
there was no fighting, but an awful amount of swear- 
ing and threatening. 

Early in the evening, several gentlemen called on 
me, and advised that I should go to the church, at the 
appointed time, and deliver my lecture. They were 
sorry that the term abolitionist had been connected 
with my name ; but that I had better meet it, and they 
would stand by me. The church was crowded, and I 
was lifted in through the window. Prayer was offered 
by Kev. W. A. Smith, D. D., when I was introduced. 
There was an evident uneasiness in the audience as I 
rose. I first said : "I wish you to hear me patiently 
before you decide what to do with me. I am ready 
to leave your city to-night, by the twelve o'clock canal- 
boat, or I will stay, finish the course of lectures, and 
fulfill my engagement. I was invited here by a com- 
mittee of your citizens, headed by the mayor, to de- 
liver ten lectures on temperance. On Sunday night 
I asked for arguments on the other side, and I got 
them, — a brass horn, a tin pan, an old fiddle, a triangle, 
a piece of sheet iron, and one man apparently hired 
to swear for the occasion, and he did his work faith- 
fully. These arguments were almost as good as I ex- 
pected to get. I have been threatened with whipping, 
with being run into the river, with vitriol in my face, 
and I have been called an abolitionist. Now, just 
hear me, when I say that there is no gentleman here, 
whose opinion is worth having, who would not despise 
me heartily if I were not. You all know I am, and 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 217 

you knew it when you sent for me ; but you engaged 
me to speak on temperance, and I came for that pur- 
pose. I have not spoken of your " peculiar institu- 
tion" in public, whatever I may have thought of it. 
You have introduced the subject, not I; and I should 
receive and merit your contempt, if I swallowed my 
principles and told a lie to curry your favor." 

This was the substance of my speech, given amid 
the stillness of the audience. I concluded by saying : 
"Now you shall decide; shall I continue my work 
here, or, with my wife, leave you to-night?" 

I was surprised at the almost unanimous vote of 
the audience, that I should remain, — which I did. 
Col. Otey and his son, with Mr. Norvell and others, 
were very kind to me; and, hearing that the " loafers" 
from Buzzard's Eoost had determined to serenade 
me again. Col. Otey sent his carriage, and took us 
to his house on the hill ; and it was six weeks after, 
that we discovered he had remained up all night on 
the piazza, while his son was in a room over the 
front door, watching for the "loafers," — and we were 
quietly and unconsciously sleeping. Had they come, 
we should probably have been awakened by the re- 
port of pistols, as Col. Otey was determined that they 
should not disturb his household with impunity. I 
must say, that I never experienced anywhere, more 
kind hospitality, or more chivalric defense, than from 
my friends at ♦that time in L3mchburg ; and very 
pleasant they made the remainder of my visit to their 
city. I left them, and rode twenty-five miles over a 
terribly rough road, to Liberty, in Bedford County, 
where, in three days after my arrival, I was prostrated 
with brain-fever, — principally caused, as the doctor 



218 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

said, "by the strain on my system in September last, 
with the nervous excitement and hard work of the 
past few weeks." 

Again my life was in peril, but I was treated with 
the greatest kindness. Dr. Moseley took me to his 
own house; Mrs. Otey and Mr. Norvell came from 
Lynchburg to see me, and everything was done for 
my comfort. The report went out that I was dead, 
and my wife received letters of condolence ; but, un- 
der the care of Dr. Moseley, who treated me like a 
brother, I recovered. (I was eight weeks, with my 
wife, in his house, and he would make no charge, 
either for medical attendance, or for any expenses he 
incurred.) The first news I received from the North 
was an account of the death of George Hurlbut, which 
gave me a severe shock. 

While with Dr. Moseley, I received a letter from 
an Englishman, that my father was living. I had not 
heard from him for eight years. Though I had writ- 
ten, the letters had failed to reach him, and he was 
not aware of my address. 

While in Virginia, I repeatedly addressed the col- 
ored people, — in Eichmond, Norfolk, Petersburg, Char- 
lottesville, Lynchburg, and other places. At Rich- 
mond I had twenty-five hundred in the Baptist 
Church. I was a little embarrassed about my address 
to them, and asked a gentleman, — a D. D., who sat 
with me, — "How shall I talk to these people?" 

He said, "Just as you talked last night in Dr. 
Stiles' church." And I did. 

There was no point I made they did not take 
promptly; no anecdote, that they did not enjoy. One 
little incident interested and moved me very much. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 219 

I said something of heaven, and a tall negro rose 
and commenced a song. He had not sung two words 
before the audience caught it up, and two thousand 
voices joined with his. There was a chorus: — 

** ** I'm bound for the land of Canaan, — 

Come, go along with me; 
We'll all pass over Jordan, 

And sound the jubilee. 
Den we shall see Jesus ; — 

Come, go along with me ; 
We're all gwine home together, 

And will sound the jubilee.'' 

I am afraid to say how many verses they sung with 
this chorus. It seemed to me there were over a dozen, 
and I had quite a rest. Just as I was resuming my 
speech, a tall man stood up by the pulpit, and said: 
"Bredren, jist look at me. Here's a nigger dat doesn't 
own his-sel£ I belong to Massa Carr, bless de Lord ! 
Yes, bredren, Massa Carr owns me. Yes, bredren, dis 
poor old body belongs to Massa Carr; but my soul is 
de free-man of de Lord Jesus!" 

The effect was electrical, and the w^hole audience 
shouted: "Amen!" "Glory!" "Bless de Lord!" 

I took the opportunity of saying, " There is not a 
drunkard in this city can say that!" 

I conversed often with the slaves, and though I saw 
the " institution " in its mildest aspects, I saw enough 
to send me back to the North more stronolv anti- 
slavery than ever before. Thank God ! that cloud has 
been driven from the horizon forever. We have 
passed through a red sea of blood ; but have reached 
the shores of freedom, and slavery is among the 
things that were, and shall be no more. I was often 



'220 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

amused at their quaint modes of expression, and in- 
terested especially in their deeply religious nature. 
The drollest prayer I ever heard, was from a colored 
man in Charlottesville. He belonged to the Uni- 
versity of Virginia, and knew it, and meant that 
others should know it, too. He was appointed to 
open the meeting with prayer, and he knelt in such 
a position that he could look at me, apparently for 
my approval. At first I attempted to follow him, 
but found that to be impossible j and soon I could 
scarcely keep my countenance. He told the Lord: 
"We've come here to have a temperance meeting, 
and Brodder Gough is a gwine to lectur' to the col- 
ored people ; and if dere's anybody cum in here peju- 
diss, — and I know dere is;" — then he related a con- 
versation he had held before he came in, and prayed 
"Dat de Lord would show dose people dat likker isn't 
good," etc., — with a side glance at me. Then he ram- 
bled off into petitions for everybody: for "De Uni- 
versity of Yirginny, whar / bilong ; for me ; for my 
wife; for my family; forde puffessors; for Dr. Guf — 
Guf — G — Dr. McGuffy," — and, failing to pronounce 
the name correctly, he stopped short, and said, " Oh, 
pshaw!" At last he had it right, and went on naming 
his friends, and concluded by saying, "Dere's several 
more of de same sort, and de Lord knows who dey is 
as well as I can tell Him." All this with a great deal 

jl of earnestness and sincerity; but I must say, it was 

rather amusing to me, than otherwise. 

I shall never forget how I was touched by the re- 

|l ply of a free man, when he had bought himself, to my 

remark that, " They had had a hard time of it." 
"YeS; sir; we has; but isn't we patient?" 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOUl^ B. GOUGH. 221 

His look, and the tones of his voice, made that Httle 
sentence very impressive to me. 

An old colored man gave me an excellent text for 
a lecture, which I used: "Massa Gough, I signed de 
pledge eight years ago, and I find it helps my 'ligion. 
I've found out dis, — dat a man can't make ho calcula- 
tion dat will come right, for time or for eternity, if he 
drinks liquor." 

And a capital text I found it. 

A colored preacher said: "Bredren, I don't know 
whedder I shall edify you or not, for I have been eat- 
ing chestnuts all the morning." 

On the 4th of September I started for Lynchburg, 
on my way home ; remained with Col. Otey three 
days; reached Bremo, Seven-Islands, on the 7th; 
visited with General Cocke till the 15th ; when I left 
for home, via Richmond and Washington ; reaching 
Roxbury on the 18th of September. 

While in Virginia, the following article had ap- 
peared in the " Vox Populi," published at Lowell, and 
was extensively copied : — 

It is currently reported, and, we regret to say, generally believed, 
that John B. Gough, the celebrated temperance lecturer, has again 
broken his pledge. We are credibly informed that he was seen in a 
state of intoxication in Church Street, on Mouday evening, and that he 
said he came to this city on Saturday. We are unable to ascertain 
any particulars, where he stopped, or obtained his liquor ; but shall 
make inquiries-. before another publication. 

Some copies of this article were sent to me in Vir- 
ginia, which I have still in my possession. Now, I 
had not been in Lowell since August 28, 1815. I 
pass on without comment. 

I rested at home till October 22d ; then commenced 



222 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

my work in Massachusetts ; then passed on to New 
York, Philadelphia, and Baltimore ; concluding the 
work for the year 1846, at Norfolk, Virginia. Daring 
the year, I received a letter from my father, an ex- 
tract from which I insert. The date is, "Eoyal Hos- 
pital, Chelsea, September 29, 1846:" — 

It is a long time since I saw or heard from you. I had, indeed, 
given up all hopes of ever hearing of you again. I think about three 
weeks since Mr. Ross called and informed me that he had seen my son 
in America, and that he had published a history of his life, — which I 
immediately procured. I am at a loss, my dear son, how to express 
my feelings on reading your book, — more particularly the first part of 
it. You must be aware that the narration of the many trials you en- 
countered must have harrowed up the feelings of a father. Although 
I am not a member of the Total Abstinence Society, yet, I bless God 
that such a society exists; for, by its instrumentality, I am happy to 
say that ^'My son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is 
found." And I do hope that, through grace, you will be enabled to 
perform with all fidelity, as a Christian, your duty to God and man. 
Oh ! what unspeakable pleasure would it give to your poor old father, 
once more to see his son, before leaving this world of trials. I am now 
in my sixty-sixth year, and am in a good degree of health, and enjoy 
my present situation as a pensioner of the "E,)yal Hospital." Give my 
very afifectionate love to your sister Mary and family, hoping they will 
all do well. My son, you have drawn a sorrowful picture of your dear 
mother's interment, in your history. I felt that part of it keenly. 

Remember me to your wife, and assure her that it would be a source 
of the o^reatest comfort to see you both. May the Lord bless you, and 
make you happy ! — is the prayer of your affectionate father, 

John Gough. 



CHAPTER XV. 



Work Among the Children — Incidents — Disturbance in " Faneuil Hall" 
— Extracts from Journals — Dread of Audiences — Tremont Tem- 
ple — Meeting in New York — Refusal to let me Pass — Flushing, 
L. L— " Singed Cat "—Polite Proprietor. 

Though during these years the temperance move- 
ment was bitterly assailed, and its enemies quick and 
persistent in their opposition, yet the great cause was 
in a healthy state, and those were the palmy days for 
temperance. We had quarterly county conventions ; 
the pledge at all our meetings freely circulated ; the 
children gathered into cold water armies ; the societies 
were alive and working ; the temperance men were 
energetic and hopeful. Much of the pleasantest work 
was among the children ; and I was always desirous of 
addressing them. They were among the most inter- 
esting and interested audiences I had. It was encour- 
aging to speak to them, because they understood what 
was said. Many objected that "they did not compre- 
hend these things." A speaker once told me that the 
greatest rebuke he ever received, was in overhearing 
two boys discuss an address they had heard from him: 

" Well, Bill, how did you like it ? " 

" Didn't like it at all." 

"Why not?" 

"Why, because he talked so much babj'-talk to us 
boys." 



224 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

I always found the boys and girls did understand 
it, and they were often most efficient workers for the 
movement. We furnished the children with pledge- 
cards; and it is surprising how many they induced to 
sign. A man was leaning, much intoxicated, against 
a tree ; some little girls coming from school, saw him 
there, and at once said to each other, "What shall we 
do for him?" Presently, one said, "Oh, I'll tell you; 
let's sing him a temperance song." And so they did; 
collecting round him they sung: — 

"Away the bowl, away the bowl;" 

and so on, in beautiful tones. The poor fellow en- 
joyed the singing, and when they had finished the 
song, said, "Sing again, little girls, sing again." 

"We will," said they, "if you'll sign the temper- 
ance pledge." 

"No, no; we are not at a temperance meeting; 
there are no pledges here." 

"I have a pledge," cries one; and "I have a pencil," 
cries another; and holding up pledge and pencil, they 
besought him to sign it. 

"No, no; I won't sign now; sing for me." 

So they sung again :— 

*'The drink that's in the drunkard's bowl 
Is not the drink for me." 

"Oh! do sing again," said he, as he wiped the tears 
from his eyes. 

" No, no more," said they, " unless you'll sign the 
pledge ; sign it, and we'll sing for you." 

He pleaded for the singing, but they were firm, 
and declared they would go away if he would not 
sign. 



AUTOBIOGEAPIIY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 225 

"But," said the poor fellow, striving to find an ex- 
cuse, "there's no table here; how can I write without 
a table?" 

At this, a quiet, modest, pretty little creature came 
up timidly, with a finger on her lips, and said, " You 
can spread the pledge on the crown of your hat, and 
I'll hold it up for you." 

Off went the hat, the child held it, and the pledge 
was signed ; and the little ones burst out with — 

'' Oh ! water for me, bright water for me." 

I heard that man in Worcester town hall, with up- 
lifted hands and quivering lip, say: "I thank God for 
the sympathy of those children. I shall thank God 
to all eternity, that He sent those little children as 
ministers of mercy to me." 

Then again, the sympathy enlisted in behalf of the 
unfortunate children of the intemperate, was produc- 
tive of great good. A school-teacher told me of a 
very pleasing change which took place in her school, 
in tho conduct of her scholars towards two poor little 
creatures whom it was almost impossible not to pity. 
The children who came from a distance, would bring 
their dinners, and, at recess, sit down in the school- 
room, or under the trees, to eat. These poor little 
things often had no dinner, and w^ould stand wistfully 
by the side of the others. The latter would say, " Go 
away! your father's a drunkard." But they were 
taught otherwise at the "cold water army" gather- 
ings; and then it was gratifying to see how delicate 
in their attentions they were to the little unfortu- 
nates. They would steal up to the place whore the 
two little ones were sitting; one would put down a 



226 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOH>^ B. GOUGH. 

piece of pie, another an apple, and then run away; 
and occasionally the contributions were so liberal, that 
the poor things had more provisions and delicacies 
before them at one time, than they would see at 
home in a month. 

I have been often touched by the sorrows of the 
drunkard's child. Pitiful little things they are some- 
times! I was once asked by a gentleman at whose 
house I was dining in Washington, "What was the 
most pitiful sight I ever saw ? " After a little thought, 
I said: "An old child; a child with wrinkles in its 
face, that is not yet in its teens; a child made old 
by hard usage; whose brow is furrowed by the 
plowshare of sorrow ; — that is one of the most pitiful 
sights on earth ! " 

We underrate the capacity of a child to suffer, as 
we do often their ability to understand. Many a 
young thing has wept scalding tears at the conscious- 
ness of being a drunkard's child. I was once driven 
from Hartford to a village where I was to lecture, by 
a man who wished to convey me there. He came 
with a fine pair of horses, harnesses, and vehicle quite 
stylish. " Ah ! " said he to me, when we had fairly 
started on the road ; " Ah ! if you had seen me eight 
years ago, when I was carted out of Willington, you'd 
have thought I was a hard case ; everything I pos- 
sessed in the world on a one-horse cart,— wife, children, 
furniture, — what there was of it, — on a one-horse cart. 
A man lent me the team to get me out of the place ; 
and such a horse ! You couldn't see his head more 
than half the time. I knew he had a head, 'cause 
when I'd pull the rein he'd kind of come round, — and 
so slow ! why, the only effect of leathering him was 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 227 

to make him go sideways, but not a bit faster. Now 
I am driving you to my native town with a span of 
horses. They're mine, — I own this team. That off- 
horse is a good traveler. (G'lang! — I'm in a hurry.) 
Why, eight years ago I was carted out, and now I'm 
driving you there, with my own team, for a temperance 
lecture. (Get up! g'lang!) My father lives there yet, 
and my old mother, that has prayed for me so many 
years, — (get up! g'lang! — I'm in a hurry.) It is the 
happiest day of my life. My wife's people live there, 
too. They never spoke to me for years before I signed 
the pledge, and I have a letter in my pocket inviting 
me to bring you to their house. G'lang ! " he shouted, 
and we spun along the road at the rate of twelve 
miles an hour. Slacking the speed, he turned to me 
and said, "Do I look like a brute?" "No, certainly 
not," I replied. " Well, I'm not a brute ; everybody 
said I was a brute ; but I am not a brute. And yet — 
well, I'll tell you. I came home one day irritated wdth 
drink, ready to vent my anger on anything. My boy, 
about ten years old, came to the door, and as soon as 
he saw me he darted off. ^Dick, come here, come 
here!' When he came, his face was bloody and 
bruised, his lip cut, and one eye swollen. ' What have 
you been doing, Dick ? ' ' I've been fighting.' I had 
no objection to the boy's fighting; but I asked, ^ What 
have you been fighting for?' He said, ^ Don't ask 
me, father; I don't want to tell you.' ^Tell me what 
you have been fighting for?' ^I don't want to.' Full 
of rage, I caught him by the collar of his little jacket 
and roared out, 'Noio, tell me what you have boon 
fighting for, or I will cut the life out of 3'ou.' ' Oh, 
father!' he cried out piteously, ^don t beat me, father. 



228 AUTOBIOGEAPHT OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

don't beat me.' ' Tell me what you've been fighting 
for, then.' 'Oh! I don't want to.' I struck him with 
my fist on the side of his head. 'Now, tell me what 
you've been fighting for.' ' Oh 1 father, father, don't 
beat me, I will tell you.' ' "Well, tell me then, quick.' 
Wiping the blood and tears from his poor, swelled 
face with the back of his hand, he said : ' There was 
a boy out there told me my father was a poor old 
drunkard, and I licked him; and if he tells me that 
again, I'll lick him again.' Oh! Mr. Gough, what 
could I say? My boy, ten years of age, fighting for 
his father's reputation. I tell you, it had like to killed 
me. How I loved that boy, my noble boy, — ^I could 
almost have worshiped him. But oh, oh, the drink, 
the cursed drink,— my love for that was stronger than 
my love for my child." 

Do not, then, little ones suffer ? God help them ! 
and inspire every friend of humanity to stretch out 
a helping hand to these despairing, wretched, but 
innocent victims of this horrible vice of drunkenness. 

While laboring among children, I have been deeply 
impressed with the importance of the work ; and I 
believe just in proportion as we neglect the right 
training of children in these important principles, we 
lose our hold on the public mind. These little ones 
are growing up rapidly to influence, and in a great 
measure to govern society. Their power for good or 
evil is greatly increasing year by year. Start them 
right, — and surely abstinence from stimulating drinks 
is right. " Teach them temperance," say some. What 
is temperance? — the moderate gratification of a natu- 
ral appetite. Is the appetite for intoxicating drinks 
a natural appetite? No! Is not total abstinence 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHIST B. GOUGH. 229 

safe ? Is not drinking a risk ? Then, help to save 
and secure children, — I will not say, from the evil 
that must come on them by drinking, but that which 
may. Parents are influenced by their children. Many 
a man has been saved by the instrumentality of his 
child. A very useful worker in this field in Scotland, 
was reformed by hearing his little child ask his 
mother, who was reading to her children the twenty- 
fifth chapter of Matthew, " Will father be among the 
goats, when Jesus comes ? " Another man I knew, was 
reformed by his child's asking him a simple question. 
He had stolen the Testament the little girl had re- 
ceived as a gift from her Sunday-school teacher, and 
sold it for drink. When on her death-bed, she asked : 
"Father, when I go to heaven, suppose Jesus should 
ask me what you did with my little Testament, what 
shall I tell him ? " He told me that was like a flash of 
lightning through him; and before the child died, 
she held his hand in hers, while he cried, " God be 
merciful to me a sinner ! " 

Some of the little fellows who became members of 
the cold water army twenty years ago, thank God for 
it to-day. I grant you that some may not keep their 
pledge ; but many do, — that we know. 

A child's rebuke is sometimes effective by its art- 
lessness and simplicity, and a man will feel more 
keenly reproof from a child, than he would a sermon ; 
and these little ones often preach powerful sermons 
in a few words. 

A barrel of liquor was being carted up a street in 

Boston, when, by accident, it rolled off, and the head 

was driven in. One of the spectators, seeing the 

liquor spilt, said, "Oh, what a pity!" "Oh no, sir,'' 

15 



( , 



/ 



230 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

said a little boy, "It is not a pity; it had better be 
on God's earth; than in God's image." 

I have so many interesting facts in reference to the 
work among the children, that I am loth to turn away 
to other topics. But I long to see a deeper interest 
manifested in the instruction and training of them in 
the right path. 

"I never drank a glass of liquor in my life," said a 
young man to me a short time since. How many 
young men to-day cry out in the bitterness of their 
wretched experience, "Would to God I could say 
that!" 

In the year 1847 I continued my work, visiting 
towns and cities in the States of Massachusetts, New 
York, New Jersey, Pennsylvania, and Maryland. From 
May 11th to June 25th, I was in Virginia, and then 
returned home. I moved from Roxbury to Boston, 
October 31, 1846. On the 23d of August, I started 
for the Province of New Brunswick, and remained 
there till October 1st; lecturing in St. Johns princi- 
pally, but speaking in Fredericton and some other 
places. I have very pleasant remembrances of my 
visit to that Province. Passing through Maine, I 
reached home October 16th, and spoke in Tremont 
Temple on Sunday, 17th. 

Several temperance meetings had been disturbed 
by a systematic course of opposition from enemies of 
the cause. In one instance, the meeting was broken 
up by the appointment of a notorious liquor seller to 
the chair. The Directors of the "Boston Temperance 
Society" asked me if I would deliver an address in 
Faneuil Hall, under these circumstances. I expressed 
my willingness to do so, and Thursday, October 21st, 



4 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 231 

was appointed. All that day there was considerable 
commotion in the city, — knots of men at the corners 
of the streets, eagerly and excitedly discussing the 
probability of a row; some declaring there would be 
a serious riot, if we attempted to hold the meeting. 
As is well known, Faneuil Hall is obtained by a re- 
quest of the city authorities, signed by one hundred 
citizens, for its use, and no charge is made except for 
lighting. In Boston it is recognized as the People's 
Hall. On arriving, we found a very large crowd, and 
some evidently bent on mischief After prayer by 
Eev. Mr. Fuller, Deacon Grant, amid a storm of hisses 
and applause, introduced me. I stepped forward to 
address the audience, but was so assailed by hisses, 
screams, and personal abuse, that I could do nothing 
but stand and look at them in perfect amazement. 
There were not more than two hundred engaged in 
this disturbance ; but the whole mass of the people 
were in a state of excitement. Three cheers were 
called for Deacon Grant ; then for some notorious 
liquor seller ; then for me ; then for everybody in par- 
ticular. Some started the tune, " Oh ! oh ! the boatmen 
row;" and a ring was formed, and dancing commenced. 

A Boston paper stated: "We learn that rum had 
been freely distributed during the day, with the un- 
derstanding that the topers who partook of the bev- 
erage were to be at the hall at an early hour, pre- 
pared to do the dirty work of their masters, the rum- 
sellers;" and "that certain men had been very active 
during the day in beating up recruits for the occasion.'* 

The "Boston Atlas" said : "Mr. Goudi was uttorlv 
prevented from being heard, by the shouting, hissing, 
bawling, and stamping of — shall we tell it to the 



232 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

nation? — a real mob, in the cradle of American lib- 
erty! A mob composed, of course, of such only as 
have good reason to dread the fervid eloquence of a 
humble man, lately rescued from the destroyer, and 
now laboring, day and night, to save others ! Tliis in 
Boston ! This in Faneuil Hall ! " 

Nearly every paper in the city commented severely 
on the outrage, and its authors. But simple disturb- 
ance did not suit the projectors of this opposition to 
our meeting, and they soon proceeded to active vio- 
lence. A rush was made for the platform, and re- 
sisted ; again they tried it, and they came pouring up 
like besiegers to a fort. Our friends stood on the de- 
fensive ; and one or two, losing their patience, met 
the attack with physical force. One seized the pitcher 
and broke it over the head of one of the assailants. 
I had placed my hat on my head (it was a new one, by 
the way) just as another of our friends raised a chair, 
and, as he threw it back to give force to the blow, it 
came heavily against my hat, crushing it in, and en- 
tirely destroying the symmetry of my *^new hat." I 
had spoken some weeks before to the seamen of the 
United States Receiving Ship Ohio, and several of the 
men were at Faneuil Hall that night. One man, 
in his blue shirt, with the stars on the collar, and his 
tarpaulin with " Ohio " on it, said to me, " We're from 
the ^Ohio,' Mr. Gough, and they sha'n't hurt you;" and 
several of the good fellows struck out right and left. 
One of the rioters came rushing towards me, and 
striking the table, it gave way, and down he went, 
table and all. A seaman caught him up by the col- 
lar of his coat and somewhere else, and threw him 
out into the audience. He looked very much like 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 233 

what the Irishman called a "straddle-bug." My wife 
was in the gallery, and as she saw this man going out 
into the crowd, sprawling in the air, like a frog, she 
thought it was me ; but her fears were allayed by 
seeing me standing on the platform, with a "shocking 
bad hat." This confusion must have lasted an hour, 
when the police came in and restored order. 

The "Boston Post" of October 22d, contained an 
article headed, "An unsuccessful attempt to put down 
Mr. John B. Gough," and stated that we were " inter- 
rupted by cries of ^organize !' 'organize!' 'Peter Brig- 
ham ! ' ' Peter Brigham ! ' etc., and a knot of persons 
bent on mischief forced themselves on the platform ; 
Mr. Gough was struck over the head with a chair; 
Constable Ellis was throv/n, or rather swept, off the 
platform; a pitcher was broken, and the fragments 
used as missiles ; two of the intruders were knocked 
off the platform by a stout man who came to the de- 
fence of the officers of the meeting ; and blows be- 
came general, until Mr. Taylor, the superintendent, 
turned off the gas. During the hight of the uproar, 
two intoxicated men were forced on the platform by 
their company, who seemed to regard it as a capi- 
tal jokfe. In the meantime, notice had been sent to 
the City Marshal, who lost no time in repairing to 
the scene with a full force of police. When they 
reached the hall, the principal friends and opponents 
of the meeting were all huddled and jauimed to- 
gether on and about the platform. The arrival of 
the police was received with loud cheers, and they 
soon opened a lane to the platform, took possession 
of it, drove down all who had no right there, and 
restored the officers of the meeting to their places. 



234 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

The gas was turned on, Mr. Gough resumed his re- 
marks/' etc. 

The " Boston Daily Mail " said : " It was confusion 
worse confounded ; the friends of decency turned 
pale, and the mob hooted like so many fiends ; tables 
and chairs flew about, and matters began to look still 
more threatening, when some one turned off the gas, 
leaving everything in almost total darkness. The 
friends of Mr. Gough resolutely maintained their po- 
sition, till a strong posse of police — for whom a mes- 
senger had been dispatched — made their appear- 
ance," etc. 

We were much relieved when Marshal Tukey 
marched in at the head of some eighty men, and re- 
stored order. A notice was given that another meet- 
ing would be held, one week from that night, Thurs- 
day, October 28 ; and on that occasion there was not 
the slightest disturbance, and, I believe, there never 
has been in Boston since at any meeting held for 
the promotion of temperance. It was severe, while 
it lasted ; but, like a thunder-storm, it cleared the at- 
mosphere. 

I addressed a large audience at Tremont Temple, 
on Sunday evening, the 24th, filled the engagement 
at Faneuil Hall, and continued my work in Massachu- 
setts till December 13th, when I went to New York, 
and closed the year's work in Kingston, in that State. 
In October I became weary of living in the city, so we 
removed to Boylston, and boarded at the farm-house 
of Capt. Stephen Flagg, in that town. 

At this time, I labored in Philadelphia under the 
auspices of the " Ladies' Temperance Union," a well- 
organized association, and very successful for many 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 235 

years ; Miss Sarah McCalla (witli whom we made 
our home for many seasons), Mrs. Dr. Bryan, and the 
other managers, vigorously and persistently laboring 
for its advancement. In Boston, I was generally em- 
ployed by the " Boston Temperance Society ;" in New 
York, by the " Daughters of Temperance," and other 
associations, — our friend, Mr. Dikeman, hospitably en- 
tertaining us at his house. 

I have often been asked, " Were you ever embar- 
rassed before an audience ?" Often the dread of an 
audience has well-nigh unfitted me for the evening's 
service ; and now, after more than twenty-six years of 
platform-speaking, I rarely face an audience without 
a dryness of my lips, and a weakness in my knees. 
To be sure, it does not last long ; but it is distress- 
ing for the time being. There have been occasions 
when the nervousness and depression previous to 
addressing an audience, have been of the most in- 
tense and distressing character. In Boston, when I 
had been announced for Tremont Temple, on Sunday 
evening, for the one hundred and sixty-first lecture 
in that city, it so far overcame me, that Deacon 
Grant, in whose family we were staying, became quite 
alarmed. All day it weighed heavily on my mind. 
I could not go to church. As the time for the meet- 
ing drew on, my wife accompanied me to the Temple. 
We reached the door — my heart failed me, and I 
turned away. My wife tried to cheer me, walked 
with me ; — a second time we reached the door, and I 
again turned back. At length I mustered up cour- 
age, and, amid doubt, and trembling with fear, we 
pressed our way in with the crowd. 

" You can't come in ; the hall is fall," said the 



236 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

door-keeper. "I wish you would keep me out/' was 
my reply. "Ah! Mr. Gough, is that you? Make way 
there ! " and on I went, feeling like " an ox going to 
the slaughter, or a fool to the correction of the stocks." 

Mr. Grant was waiting for me with great anxiety, 
for he knew the state of my mind. " I can say noth- 
ing to-night ; I haven't a thought," were the first 
words I said to him, as I took my seat on the plat- 
form. But it was necessary that the exercises should 
begin. Rev. Mr. Cushman offered prayer, and prayed 
most feelingly for me ; but the black cloud still cov- 
ered me. Then music, — I hoped that might inspire 
me ; but no. For a wonder even that failed to help 
me. When introduced, I stood with trembling limbs 
and a sinking heart, and I well remember what I said: 
" Ladies and gentlemen, I have nothing to say. It is 
not my fault that I am before you to-night. I almost 
wish I could feel as a gentleman in New York told 
the people he felt when he addressed them, — 'I am 
never afraid of an audience ; I imagine the people 
are so many cabbage-heads.' I wish I could feel so." 
Then a thought struck me, and I said : " No, I do not 
wish that When I look in your faces, an assemblage 
of rational and immortal beings, and remember how 
drink has debased and dragged down the loftiest and 
noblest minds, I cannot feel so, — I thank God I cannot 
feel so." And then T went on for more than an hour 
and a half, with no hesitation even for a word. When 
I sat down. Deacon Grant said, "Don't you ever 
frighten me so again." 

That audience had no conception of my real suffer- 
ing. Had not my wife so judiciously chejered and 
encouraged me, I think I should not have appeared 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHIST B. GOUGH. 



237 



that night.- I was very pale and thin at this time, 
and many were the jokes on my personal appearance. 
One writer said I looked as if a tolerable gust of 
wind would blow me to any required point of the 
compass. My hair was very dark, and I suppose I 
did look rather cadaverous. 

One night at a crowded meeting in Dr. Cone's 
church, Elizabeth Street, New York, I was insinuat- 
ing myself as quietly as I could through the mass of 
people, who were standing in the aisles, when I came 
to a big, broad-shouldered man, who would not move 
an inch, but on the contrary seemed inclined to "close 
up." "Will you please let me pass?" "No," he re- 
plied very gruffly, "I sha'n't." "I should like to get 
by you, sir," I said, as mildly as I could. "I have no 
doubt you would" (very sternly). "But my name is 
Gough, and I have to lecture to-night." I thought 
that would be a clincher ; but I might as well have 
tried to move an elephant with a feather. The 
man looked bigger and taller than ever, as he said, 
"Now, young man, you can't come that game on me ; 
I have let two or three Mr. Goughs go by me already." 
I said, "You please let me pass, and the exercises will 
at once commence." Turning half round, and looking 
down at me, he replied: "You don't believe I'm such 
a fool as to suppose that such a muff of a fellow as yow, 
could bring all these people together ? AVhy, 3'ou 
look so weak, that I don't believe a quarter of tlicm 
could hear you. I sha'n't let you pass me." Fortu- 
nately, a lady was seated near who knew me, and, 
seeing the difficulty, asked me to step over the top of 
the pew where she was ; but the big man gave way 
at that, saying, as I passed him, "If you are Mr. 



238 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHl^ B. GOUGH. 

Gough, begin as soon as you can, for I am tired of 
standing." When I reached the pulpit I looked over 
at him, and could not resist the temptation of making 
him a slight bow. 

On mj first visit to Flushing, L. I., I entered the 
church, and, as no one met me, proceeded to the pul- 
pit, and sat down on the stairs. I noticed several 
looked at me as if they wondered what business I 
had there. Soon the directors of the meeting came 
in, and I was escorted to the desk. Looking down at 
one man whose gaze at me I thought especially queer, 
I noticed him staring with a good degree of wonder. 
When I had finished, and was coming down the pul- 
pit stairs, he stepped up to me, and, holding out his 
hand, said, "You're very much like a singed cat." I 
drew myself up, a little offended at what I thought 
was a very uncomplimentary remark. When I reached 
home, I related the circumstance to some friends, and 
asked if he meant to insult me. " Oh, no ; he meant 
you was better than you looked to be." 

I was once introduced by a Scotchman, who said : 
*^ I wish to introduce Mr. Gough, who is to lecture to 
us on temperance ; and I hope he'll prove far better 
than he looks to be." 

I believe it is considered a great advantage for a 
public speaker to be dignified, stately, majestic, and 
pleasing in his personal appearance ; but I never had 
those advantages. Perhaps I am a gainer in the end ; 
for an audience may be better pleased with a speaker 
from whom they expect nothing, than from one whose 
imposing appearance would lead them to expect 
much. The proprietor of the lodging-house where we 
were entertained on our first visit to London, was 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 



239 



SO excessively polite, that it was embarrassing at 
times. He would insinuate himself into the room at 
breakfast time, and, bowing very gracefully, would 
say : " I beg your pardon — excuse me — I'm much 
obliged to you — thank you — but, hem ! — what would 
you like for dinner ? " These expressions he used on 
all occasions. The committee had presented him with 
tickets to the lecture at Drury Lane Theater, and on 
my return he met me at the door and said : " I beg your 
pardon, sir," etc., ^' but, hem !— I've been to your lec- 
ture, and — I beg j^our pardon — thank you — but, hem ! 
— I've been very much disappointed, sir." 

'' Ah ! Mr. , I'm sorry for that." 

" Ch, my 1 — thank you — I beg your pardon — but, 
hem ! — to look at you, nobody would think you could 
speak on a stage — hem ! — I beg your pardon — thank 
you, sir — but, hem! — when Lord Shaftesbury intro- 
duced you — you know, sir — hem! — that he is a very 
noble-looking gentleman, so tall, you know, and so — 
hem — I beg your pardon, but really — thank you, 
sir — when you stood up, you looked so — hem! — so 
very — I beg your pardon, but really I pitied you — I 
did indeed, now — to look at you nobody would think 
you could speak on the stage — hem! — I beg your 
pardon." 

I have, in traveling, overheard some curious re- 
marks about my personal appearance, generally by 
no means complimentary ; but I console myself with 
the calculation, that, as I was considered a very pretty 
baby, if I live to second childhood, beauty may come 
to me again. 



CHAPTER XVI. 

Line of Travel for the Year — Meeting at Kingston — Fall of the Platr 
form — Notice of the Accident — Practical Jokes — My Father's arrival 
in this Country — Comments of the Press — Opposition of Temper- 
ance Papers — Charge of Becoming Rich — Statement of Receipts — 
Present Condition — Purchase of Land — Building a House. 

During the first few weeks of 1848 I continued 
working in New York State, returning home February 
4th; then in Connecticut till April 28th; delivering 
during that time, some addresses in New York and 
Brooklyn. After resting till May 8th, I commenced 
again in Connecticut, and continued in that State and 
Massachusetts, till July 3d, when I went to Kingston, 
N. Y.; spoke there on the 4th of July; from thence, 
home to rest till the 25th, and then on to Connecticut 
till September 6th; and continued through the remain- 
der of the year in the State of New York, — with the 
exception of two weeks in Connecticut, — lecturing 
generally in the towns on the Hudson Eiver ; finishing 
the year in Chatham Four Corners, N. Y. While lec- 
turning in New Haven, I put up at a hotel with very 
poor accommiodation. Mr. John G. North called on 
me, with one or two gentlemen. When they came to 
my room, I held up what appeared very much like a 
doll with a large head, and asked them to guess what 
it was. They were puzzled, for no one would have 
"supposed it could be my pillow. We had a laugh to- 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 241 

gether at my discomfort^ and Mr. North took me to 
his pleasant home, where for years I was most liber- 
ally entertained on my frequent visits to New Haven. 

At Kingston, N. Y., the meeting was held on the 
4th of July, in a large tent. During the exercises, a 
portion of the seats gave way, carrying with them 
a part of the platform. No one was very seriously 
injured. A lady, I believe, had a leg fractured. 
A New York paper gave a notice of the accident, 
headed, ''John B. Gough again Fallen!'' and then 
followed a statement of the facts, the writer evidently 
intending a joke; and it was so understood. But 
there are some persons who do not understand a joke, 
until it is explained to them. Mr. Wheelock, of the 
Quincy House, told me that a person whom I knew 
well at that time, as no friend to me, came into the 
hotel, crying: ^'Ha, ha! Gough's down again! Just 
as I expected — down again ! " 

"No," said Mr. Wheelock, "I guess not; at least T 
hope not." 

"Ah! but it is so ; here it is in the paper; look at 
thaty—'^ohn B. Gough again Fallen ! ' There's no 
doubt about it this time." 

" Let me see the paper," said Mr. Wheelock. After 
reading it he said to the gentleman, " Have you read 
the article ? " 

" No ; I only saw the heading, and brought it right 
to you, because you are interested in Gough." 

"Well," replied Mr. Wheelock, "you had better 
read it," — and handed the paper to him. 

"Ah!" said he when he had read it, "it's a pretty 
good joke." 

Those who make jokes, should understand that 



I 



I 



242 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. - 

some persons cannot appreciate a joke. They are 
very literal, and take everything in that sense. After 
my work in Buffalo, one of the city papers perpe- 
trated a joke that caused uneasiness to some per- 
sonal friends of mine for a brief space. The paper 
stated : " We learn that after a series of temperance 
lectures delivered in Buffalo, by John B. Gough, that 
gentleman left the city on a regular train!' One el- 
derly lady friend ran in great distress from house to 
house, expressing her sorrow that Mr. Gough, after 
lecturing on temperance, should go off on a train; 
and declared she didn't know whom to trust after 
that. Her anxiety continued till some one said, "I 
wonder he did not go by the express train," and then 
she saw the joke, and no harm was done. 

Occasionally harm is done, through foolishness or 
malice. A gentleman told me that in the street-cars 
in Chicago, the winter before last, he heard a man 
very stoutly abusing me. The cars were passing the 
Baptist Church on Wabash Avenue, and some one said, 
"Gough lectured on temperance there last night;" 
when this man cried out, " Gough's a hypocrite ! he 
has been drinking at the Tremont House." "Who 
says so?" was the question of one or two. "The 
paper says so," said he triumphantly; and read out 
the article some silly person had inserted, to the 
effect that "Tlie Fat Contributor" and "Nasby" had 
called on Gough, at the Tremont House, and had 
ordered brandy up to the room, till he 'protested that 
his reputation would suffer ; the inference being, that 
I either drank, or consented that the brandy should 
be ordered, till I became fearful for my reputation. 
This was a joke; but it did me no good, and caused 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH 243 

me some annoyance ; I heard of it more than once. 
I know the majority took it as a joke ; but there were 
some who did not stop to reflect, that no gentleman 
would call on me and order brandy to my room in a 
hotel ; — and " The Fat Contributor " and " Nasby " are 
both gentlemen. 

These are trifling matters to mention; but they are 
made, and can be made, very annoying. A sensitive 
man does not like these things buzzing about him. I 
sometimes can say with the poor fellow, almost tor- 
mented out of his wits by the mosquitoes, "There! 
if you must bite, hite; but stop your darned bugling!" 
A lady wrote me a severe letter from St. Louis, com- 
mencing by telling me how much she was pleased 
with my address on temperance in that city, but that 
in traveling North, she heard a very respectable per- 
son say I kept a large stock of wine in my cellar; 
and then she rather broadly hinted that I was a hyp- 
ocrite. The "respectable person" perpetrated a very 
poor joke, and the lady took it in earnest, — that's 
all. 

I crave my reader's pardon for alluding to these 
little things; but they produce an effect. "Oh! do 
not mind such trifles." That's easier said than done. 
I have been often seriously requested — personally, and 
by letter — to deny in public that I use intoxicating 
liquor ; for it is reported that such is the fact, etc. 

Now, how can a man stand up and say, " Ladies 
and gentlemen, I beg to assure you that I do not 
drink intoxicating liquors?" Just as properly might 
he announce, if accused of lying, "Ladies and gen- 
tlemen, I assure you I am not a liar." These foolish, 
jesting words that touch a man's reputation, are so 



244 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN" B. GOUGH. 

easy to say, though their effects are not so easily 
remedied. It is easy, too, to make an accusation that 
is hard to disprove, — to say words that sting those 
who never hear them, and cannot answer them. 

On the 27th of October my father arrived in this 
country, and on the 28th came to my house. I had 
obtained his direction, and written to him immediately 
on hearing that he was living. I had repeatedly 
written to him during the past eight years; but he 
had married again, and on the death of his wife, gone 
into Chelsea Hospital ; so my letters failed to reach 
him. An English gentleman in whom I had become 
interested, and to whom I had been of some service, 
when leaving this country for a visit home, asked me 
what he could do for me in England. I told him the 
only thing I could ask him to do, was to ascertain, if 
possible, whether my father was living, and if so, 
where he was. I gave him all the direction I could, 
to enable hiiji to succeed in his search, and in 1846, a 
few months after he had left, he wrote me that my 
father was alive and well, and sent me his address. 
I felt as Joseph did, when he said, "Is the old man of 
whom ye spake, your father, yet alive ? and they said, 
he is alive." I immediately wrote to him and re- 
ceived his reply, which I have inserted in a previous 
page. My "Autobiography" had been published in 
England by Darton & Co., of Holborn Hill, London, 
and my father had obtained a copy of it. As he was 
desirous of coming to the United States, I sent him 
the means to accomplish his desire ; and he came, 
bringing with him a little son, my half-brother, about 
five years of age. Such a pleasant episode in my life 
as meeting a father I had not seen for nineteen, and 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHIS" B. GOUGH. 245 

had not heard from for nearly eight years, could not 
be permitted to pass without an alloy. For my part, 
I cannot understand the cruelty of some people. This 
article appeared in the papers, — not exactly correct, 
however : ''Mr. Gough and his Father. — John Gough, 
the father of John B. Gough, has arrived in this 
country. He first learned that his son was in Amer- 
ica, from being asked by a traveling agent to purchase 
his history." 

The Boston ^^Chronotype" published this article, 
with the following comments : " His son must have 
been still more surprised to learn that his father was 
in America, for he used to tell, as one of his most pa- 
thetic tales, how he followed his father to his grave, 
in a sort of Potter's Field. Does not John B. Gough 
owe it to a curious and generous public, to explain to 
them how he came by his resurrection?" 

This was copied very extensively, with various com- 
ments. A Hartford paper commented thus : " Prob- 
ably the story of his father's death was manufactured 
to order, like the drugged soda-water which stole away 
his brains in New York. John B. Gough is a great 
natural orator, and a smart, effective speaker ; but he 
is not so scrupulous about the truth as he should be. 
A man in his position ought not to prove himself a 
hypocrite in too many things." 

Many of the newspapers defended me, stating that 
my "Autobiography" had been published, and been 
before the public for more than three years, and that 
it was my mother — not my f[ither — who was buried in 
Potter's Field. Several of the newspapers, in extracts 
that I have before me, took the " Chronotype " to task, 
and said some severe things. One extract I give : 
16 



246 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

"The story originated with the ^Chronotype' of this 
cit}^, in which other interesting items pertaining to 
Mr. Gough, have at different times appeared ; evi- 
dently by the same disingenuous individual, — hy no 
means the editor ;" and after stating that the story is 
erroneous, that Mr. Gough never uttered such words, 
goes on: "There are probablj^ several other esculents 
of similar diminutive dimensions, in the possession 
of our contemporary's protege, which will doubtless 
be presented to the gaze of an appreciating public." 
I beg to state that this article was not from a temper- 
ance paper. 

These articles, friendly to me, brought out a furious 
one from the " Chronotype," and a succession of them, 
in which I was called a "sycophantic weedling," a 
"priestly vassal," a "willful liar, or consummate ass," 
a " religious thief," " wolfish ; " and then — for no con- 
ceivable purpose but to wound where every living 
man feels most the cruelty of other's words (in his 
domestic relations) — my dead w^ere dragged from the 
grave, to be pelted with the last and worst epithets 
that a desire to sting the living could supply. 

I do not insert these things in a spirit of bitterness ; 
but as I am furnishing my recollections, I deem it but 
my duty, that if the public choose to know anything 
about me, other than they can gather from my public 
labors, they are entitled to a record of the trials and 
battles of these years, as well as the enjoyments and 
prosperities. I have many pleasant things to record 
— very pleasant. The public generally, has treated 
me with the utmost kindness and liberality ; the press 
has been generous and forbearing in its criticism ; but 
the steady, persistent opposition of some of the tern- 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 247 

perance papers especially, has been a mystery to me. 
I know I did not agree with the "Washingtonians " 
in all their declarations and proceedings ; but then, a 
man has a right to his opinions, if he can give good 
reasons for holding them, and I think I did. If I did 
not, it was a simple matter for criticism or debate, — 
not abuse ; for in expressing opinions publicly, a man 
exposes himself to criticism ; and I know I have 
never complained of that, provided it was fair, no 
matter how severe. I think — indeed, I know — that I 
have been benefited by criticism, and I thank every 
honest, fair critic. But the continual opposition and 
defamation are, to me, unaccountable. 

One charge so often brought against me, and which 
was a never-failing armory from whence to draw their 
weapons, was, that I was "making money." Now here 
—as I shall soon dismiss the subject, and I desire that 
my friends (and foes, if I have any) shall know the 
facts in reference to my public life — I will render a 
statement, as correct as mathematics, of the sums aver- 
aged per night, for lectures, during my w^hole course. 
I give the receipts in Great Britain, for the two ^^ears 
I spent there, from August 1, 1853, to August 2, 1855, 
and from September, 1857, to August, 1860, embody- 
ing them in the statements for those years. Here are 
the years, and the average receipts for lectures : — 

1843, average per lecture, $2 77 

1844^ average per lecture, 7 29 

1845, average per lecture, 14 42 

184G, average per lecture, 20 52 

1847, average per lecture, 21 06 

1848, average per lecture, 17 28 

1849, average per lecture, 19 12 

1850, average per lecture, 24 3l3 



248 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

1851, average per lecture, $21 80 

1852, average per lecture, 21 67 

1853, average per lecture, 25 33 

1854, average per lecture, 48 46 

1855, average per lecture, 50 14 

1856, average per lecture, ------ 63 73 

1857, average per lecture, 62 90 

1858, average per lecture, 47 88 

1859, average per lecture, 49 32 

1860^ average per lecture, 60 10 

Since 1860, 1 have lectured on other topics a por- 
tion of each year, and have received a larger average ; 
but if the associations that employ me are satisfied, 
I know not why I should not be, — and outsiders have 
no reason to grumble. The evidence that they are 
content is, that I refused last year more than nine 
hundred applications for my services; and now (July 
24, 1869) have more than six hundred applications for 
service the coming season. I append the average 
from 1860 to 1867, not having made up the account 
for 1868: — 

1861, average per lecture, $88 37 

1862, average per lecture, 90 83 

1863, average per lecture, 104 94 

1864, average per lecture, - - - - - - 114 80 

1865, average per lecture, 150 62 

1866, average per lecture, 169 78 

1867, average per lecture, 173 39 

Out of these sums must come all • my expenses 
(either my wife, or a traveling agent and clerk, ac- 
companying me from 1843), all postal matters, tele- 
grams, expresses, frequently the pay of an amanuen- 
sis, as well as the "thousand and one" expenses inci- 
dent to a moving public life. 

I am often reported to be rich. I have a farm and 



AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 249 

a comfortable home. In it are many valuable books 
and pictures, not a few of them gifts, besides precious 
testimonials of esteem and gratitude in various forms, 
and I have some investments. Should I fail this year, 
however, in ability to labor or do anything for in- 
come (and I am liable to accident or illness at any 
time), I could not, on the interest of these investments, 
retain my home as it is at present, with the care of 
those now dependent upon me for support and aid in 
various ways. The question arises, "Where has it 
gone?" That is a question I am not called upon to 
answer. I am responsible only to Him through whose 
goodness I have received, who knows all hearts, and 
who has commanded us to "honor Him with our sub- 
stance." 

This statement is a digression which. may call for 
an apology, but which, in view of what has been said 
and done, I thought ought to be made. Here let it 
stand ; leaving me to be glad of the hope that to the 
temperance cause will be given the honor of one of 
its advocates seekino; to advance it accordino; to his 
ability, and his flimily not "asking bread" when he is 
laid aside, — his work done. I have never felt it an 
honor to the cause that its chosen workers should be 
so ill-provided for in its service, that the posthumous 
testimonial, or the earlier subscription paper, should 
be the only reliance of broken health, or support of 
beloved ones. 

On a fine May evening, I accompanied Capt. Flagg 
to a pasture on the hill west of his farm, and was so 
charmed with the beauty of the prospect that 1 ex- 
claimed, " What a fine site for a house !" 

"AVhy do you not buy this strip of twenty-five 



250 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

acres, more or less, and build a house ?" was the Cap- 
tain's reply. 

Almost on the instant, I had agreed to take the 
land. On the 22d of August (my birthday) the cor- 
ner-stone of my house was laid. Deacon Moses Grant, 
G. W. Bungay, F. W. Kellogg, and some other friends 
were present, and spent the day with me. It seemed 
a great undertaking to make a home for myself and 
wife. Many friends have asked why I chose a spot so 
far from the city, — five miles from Worcester, and two 
miles from anywhere else. The fact is, I had become 
weary of city life, and longed for the country. Being 
pleased with this situation, I purchased twenty-six 
acres, built my house, and planted trees. Since that 
time, I have added to it, and now, I trust with a grate- 
ful heart, sit with my friends under the shade of the 
trees my hand has planted. 



CHAPTER XVII. 

Continued Work — Examples of the Power of Drink — Letter from an 
Englishman — His History — Visit to Montreal — Address to the Sol- 
diers — Work in Detroit — Flowers from the Children — Interview 
with a Young Lady — Case of Reform. 

DuRiKG the next year (1849) from January 1st to 
July 5th, I was busily employed, with the exception of 
a few weeks in the summer, — the record of which, in 
my journal, is simply, " resting, recruiting, farming, 
and doing as w#please." Afterwards I passed through 
New York State, up and down the Hudson River, and 
on the line of the New York Central Railroad, diverg- 
ing, occasionally, to towns lying off the more traveled 
route. From September 10th to November 27th, I 
labored in Eastern New York, visiting Saratoga, Balls- 
ton, and towns in that direction; from the 6tli to the 
21st of December, in New York and vicinity, and then 
to Western New York, concluding the year's work in 
Geneva. Nothing remarkable occurred during the 
year. I worked peaceably and with great delight, 
although I came in contact — as I have ever, while 
engaged in this work — with evidences of the terrible 
evil of intemperance. A record of the cases brought 
under my notice, and with which I became personally 
acquainted, would be an awful revelation. I received 
letters from wretched, almost hopeless, victims of tliis 
vice, constantly. I could fill my book with extracts. 



254 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

I was steadily working for temperance^ and neces- 
sarily became familiar with these facts ; and I give 
the darker shades of human experience, hoping that 
some who read may be terrified at the fascination of. 
drink, or appalled at the power of appetite, when 
once it fastens its fangs upon the victim. What will 
not men do, and suffer, to gratify fhis craving desire 
for stimulants? 

I know a case — know the man well — who was 
cursed with this appetite y he was a good workman, 
and no fault could be found with him, except as con- 
nected with drinking. His employer was loth to lose 
his services, and besides, felt a personal interest in 
him. He agreed — after a terrible debauch, during 
w^hich he was absent from the shop for more than a 
week — that his employer should retain all his earn- 
ings, |)^^rchasing for him necessary articles, but not 
permitting him to have a cent in his possession. He 
continued for nearly a month sober, and steady at his 
work, when one afternoon he became restless and 
uneasy, his enemy struggling for the mastery; the 
desire for drink grew so strong that he could not 
stand still; 'nervously moving about the shop, his 
mouth feverish, his tongue dry, his skin hot, with a 
longing past description for drink, — but how to get 
it? He could procure no money; he had no credit. 
Holding his hand to his mouth, he began to writhe as 
if in pain, and when asked what was the matter, com- 
plained of a raging toothache, and declared he must 
have a tooth extracted. His employer, pitying his 
sufferings gave him half a dollar, which was the usual 
charge for the operation. He went out, and, know- 
ing that he would be expected to bring with him the 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHIT B. GOUGH. 255 

extracted tooth, actually induced a man to pull his 
tooth for twenty-five cents. He brought back the 
tooth to the shop; and was drunk before night, — went 
to his boarding-house staggering, having purchased a 
quantity of new rum with his twenty-five cents. 

You who take your glass, and boast you can let it 
alone when you choose, — can you imagine a power 
like this? For drink, a man will sacrifice truth, 
honor, health, home, friends, wife, children, — aye, his 
own life, and his hopes of heaven. Read this letter, 
written to me by a poor victim appealing from the 
depths of despair for help : — 

Sir, — It is a poor drunkard who addresses yon; a young man, but 
a stranger to happiness. Oh, would that I was free from this cursed 
yice which now hangs about me ! Would that I could once more be a 
man, — but I fear it is too late ! Oh, my dear sir, you know too truly 
the miseries of a drunkard's life ! See me, if you can, and I will tell 
you what I cannot write. Oh, for the sake of a young and lovely 
wife, whom I love most dearly, would I again become a sober man, 
and enjoy the happiness that once was mine, but which' was thrown 
away for the sparkling wine. T/iere was hell at the bottom, though! 
Oh, Mr. Gough, do come and see me ; you know not the misery I am 
in ! I am a drunkard ; but let me find a sympathizing friend in you, 
although a stranger. With much respect, I remain, dear sir, yours. 

I have scores of such letters. Poor drunkard ! what 
an accumulation of horrors seem to gather round that 
term, drunkard. The life of a drunkard — heavens 
and earth ! angels, men, and devils ! What a 
theme — running through cherub infancy, through 
wasted youth, to blasted manhood ! Days of alternate 
reveling and cursing; a life of unrelieved misery; a 
death of shame and ano;uish. Eead Charles Lamb's 
" Confessions of a Drunkard." ITow the drink destrovs 
genius ! Some one has said, " The cllect of wiue ou 



256 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF J0H2^ B. GOUGH. 

genius is to make it sparkle and burn." Yes, to burn 
out ] while the occasional flashes only serve to reveal 
still more the blackness of the ruin. The most painful 
and pitiful cases I have known, were those of educated 
men. The farther a man falls, the deeper he goes, — 
is as true in morals, as it is in physics. In 1845, I 
received the following; letter from one with w^hose 
career from that time, I was intimately acquainted : 

Philadelphia, Monday, January 13, 1845. 
I was present at your lecture last night, and desire to add one fact 
to your abeady terribly interesting list. Read it, sir. I shall be 
among your auditory, and after your address will see you. R. 

I am an Englishman. When a child I had all the advantages that 
a religious education could confer. My father was the managing clerk 
of the establishment, of which he is at this time the head. I was 
clever, as they said, very clever, because I threw off verses to any 
seekers after such light ware. Well, I went to parties, — Christmas 
parties, picnic parties, Dorcas parties, — and bits of eake and glasses of 
wine made me look at life through a rose-colored medium. At four- 
teen years of age, I was apprenticed to a surgeon, and, though my 
father's limited means prevented his sending me to a classical school, I, 
by sitting up three nights out of six, for two months, managed to beat 
fifteen competitors in the Latui examination, which was preliminary to 
the general medical ordeal at the Apothecaries' Hall, London. I pro- 
gressed in my profession, and was on the first step of prosperity's ladder ; 
from that I stooped to take a few glasses, and, after staggering up 
two or three more, I fell, and was laughed at by those whom 1 had 
once contemptuously designated " snails of the profession." 

I happened to have a literary taste, and, without bragging, I say, that 
when I wrote without the stimulus of alcohol, I never had an article 
of mine rejected. I take it this is no vain boasting, for " Blackwood's 
Magazine," "Frazer's," the "London New Monthly," and "Punch," 
have printed, and paid for, my productions. Had I not drank, I might 
have been rich from this source alone. I married my first, my only 
love. She did not think me intemperate; nor did I think so then. 
The habit was growing. Wedding parties, and the whirl of casual 
acquaintance, brought round wine. My poor wife once hinted — only 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHiq- B. GOUGH. 257 

hinted to me — that I had better not drink; but I did; and what was 
the consequence? I lost sixteen hundred pounds in two years, by my 
business, which I paid the good will for ; and tried again. Again I 
was prospering, and raised sufficient to start a newspaper. It suc- 
ceeded. I was caressed by the party I belonged to, and belong to still, 
I drank — sold the paper. It is living now in England, a good prop- 
erty, and 1 have no share in it. Children came, — one, the eldest, is a 
thoughtful-eyed girl, now eleven years of age; the second, golden- 
haired Kitty, is nine; and my boy, Willie, is seven. My wife and my 
little ones are living away from me, — and why? I never said an un- 
kind word to either; never beat my wife; never threatened my little 
ones,— -they would jump to see me now, — but I drank, and neglected 
them. My family and hers saw what I did not see, and in hot haste I 
signed a deed of separation. But in heart we are yet, I believe, one. 

One bitter recollection remains : I alone am to blame for being 
three thousand miles away from any individual who cares for me. I 
was walking one day with my little Kate, in a church-yard in Bristol, 
England, when my child said to me, "Funerals are solemn, papa, not 
dismal." Would she not have considered the drunkard's funeral the 
most dismal spectacle in the world ? 

I have, sir, signed the pledge, and to you I render the thanks of one 
who can appreciate your devotion to a noble cause, and who knows, by 
bitter experience, the consequences of a friendly glass. 

I sought him out^ and found him in a wretched 
condition. I took him to New York, kept him at the 
Croton Hotel for two wrecks, then brought him to 
Boston, and kept him in my own house for some 
months. He first attracted notice by a series of arti- 
cles pubhshed in the "Boston Atlas/' entitled, "Pen 
and Ink Sketches by a Cosmopolitan." He was soon 
received favorably into the select literary circles of 
the city. I was once invited to the house of the late 
Abbott Lawrence, solely because lie was at that time 
a member of my family. He Avrote, " Local Loitor- 
ings," for the "Boston Journal;" furnished articles 
for annuals and magazines. He was genial, and pos- 



258 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

sessed the faculty of ma^king himself very agreeable. 
He was quick in composition. On one occasion, he 
•was present at a lecture of mine in which I used the 
expression " before and behind." He then and there, 
on the impulse of the moment, wrote on a slip of 
paper, a little practical play on the words. I give an 
extract : — 

Before and behind, before and behind ; 
'Twere well if we often felt inclined 
To keep those two little words in mind, 

Which are pregnant with joy and sorrow ; 
Many a story of weal and of woe 
This brace of significant syllables show, 
From which we may all. as through life we go, 

Instruction and warning borrow. 

For instance : just look at the bar-room screen, 
Which stands the bar and the street between, 
To prevent death's doings from being seen 

By the passers by on the paving. 
Before it, sobriety gravely goes, 
W^ith its cheek of bloom and its lip of rose ; 
Behind it, drunkenness brews its woes, — 
Bodies and souls enslaving. 

Then follow nine stanzas describing: the drunkard's 



course, and concluding with: — 



o 



We may wisdom reap from the, simplest thing. 

If fancy will only unfold her wing ; 

E'en where evil lies coiled up with venomous sting,— 

And it's not very hard to find it. 
So take my rhymes, and the moral they preach, — 
For a simple contrast like this may teach, — 
And before the screen, let me beg and beseech 

You, never to go behind it. 

I have the whole, just as he wrote it in that meet- 
ing, with but two erasures or alterations. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 2-59 

Early in 1846^ he returned to England. While 
there, he sought for and found my father, — as I have 
before stated. We soon heard he had fallen, and was 
drinking. Rev. Dr. Choules, of Newport, induced 
him to come again to .this country. I met him in 
New York in 1848. From that time till the day of 
his death, I worked to save him, as I never labored 
for any other victim of this vice. He wrote the 
"Passages from the history of a wasted life," giving 
in that, a portion of his own experience. But all 
effort was in vain. Friend after friend held out a 
helping hand. I offered him a refuge in my own 
house, which he refused. He would write me the 
most abusive letters when drunk, and afterwards offer 
apologies. He wore out the patience of his friends, 
and on one occasion — I think it was the last appeal 
to him I ever made — he said, after my pleading with 
him to give up drink for the sake of wife, children, 
and his own soul: "No, no! Why, John Gough, 
Dives in hell never longed for a drop of water on his 
cracked tongue as, w^ith all the power I have left me, 
I long for drink ; and I'll have it." And he did ; and 
died in a wretched condition in Brookljm, a year or 
two since. 

How terrible the sufferin£;:s of these men, — knowino-, 
as they do, that it is ruin and death to go on; and 
yet unable to stop. A Member of Congress &aid once 
in my presence: "Gentlemen, I would give my right 
hand, cut off at the wrist, if I could quit the drink; 
but I can't!" — and in six weeks after, destrovcd his 
life in a most frightful manner. The beginning of 
such a career, is with social companions, nniid the 
glitter, and sparkle, and poetry of conviviality; but 

t 



260 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHiq- B. GOUGH. 

in tlie end, it is to get drunh. Alone he will gulp 
down glass after glass of anything that will gratify 
his morbid craving. No outbreak or convivial cheer, 
no romance, — but a mad, furious desire to get drunk. 
Anything that will produce this effect, he will drink. 
Tell him he drinks poison, — he knows that, yet drinks 
on. Tell him he drinks oil of vitriol, oil of turpen- 
tine, sulphuric acid, — that the tap he is drinking at 
spouts corroding fire ; he knows it, and drinks on, — 
drinks himself to death! Victims of this vice have 
been known to drink camphor, cologne water, spirits 
in which reptiles have been preserved, even cam- 
phene; in short, any liquid that will start the stag- 
nant blood in the vessels of the diseased stomach. 
Young men, you are safe, forever safe from this 
terrible curse, if you never drink. It is a simple 
preventive. I say not that you will surely suffer 
these torments if you drink; I only tell you that 
you may, and the mere risk of such a fate, should 
prompt you to do as did the Indian, who, when of- 
fered a glass of rum, seized it, and, dashing it to the 
ground, said: ^^Ah! men call you devil; but, devil as 
you are, I'm your master." 

In 1850, my work was in the State of New York 
till the first of May, when I returned home for a 
month's rest, and commenced on the first of June in 
New York, going on through Buffalo to Cleveland 
and Detroit; then home, from July 6th to September 
6th, resting, farming, and recruiting. Starting again 
in Boston, September 7tb; I proceeded, after a few lec- 
tures in Massachusetts, to New York, Troy, and up 
Lake Champlain, to House's Point, and Montreal, go- 
ing as far as Quebec; returning, passed through Can- 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHI^ B. GOUGH. 261 

ada to Kingston, Toronto, and Hamilton, crossing over 
to Buffalo, and through New York State home, on 
November 27th; rested till December 11th; spoke in 
New York on the 12th, and continued in the vicinity 
of the city, finishing the year at Jersey City. At 
Eochester I gave five lectures; in Buffalo, eighteen; 
Lockport, five; Penn Yan, six; Detroit, ten; Cleve- 
land, five; Montreal, twelve ; Quebec, eight; Kingston, 
six; Toronto, ten; and Hamilton, seven; — all in suc- 
cession — that is, a continuous course of lectures in 
these places. 

While in Montreal, Sir J. Alexander called on me, 
and asked if I would address the soldiers of the garri- 
son. I was happy to do this, and accordingly I had a 
very fine audience of the Twentieth Regiment, with 
their officers, at the Gosport Street Church, where 
two hundred men signed the pledge, and I was then 
addressed by the men, through the commanding offi- 
cer, Lieut.-Col. Horn. Some years after, in England, 
I met a portion of that regiment at Devonport, and 
several greeted me, and informed me that they had 
kept their pledge. At Quebec, Lieut.-Col. Hays 
waited on me, to request an address to the military 
there, as a Highland regiment was quartered at Cajoe 
Diamond, and the Nineteenth Reoriment was in irar- 
rison. There was a muster of eisrht hundred men to 
hear me. I also addressed the military at Kino-ston, 
and Toronto. I felt a deep interest in these men. as 
my first recollection of my father, was of seeing him 
with his red coat and trappings. 

In Bufialo, during my course of lectures, five thou- 
sand and eighty-two persons signed tlie pledge, ^ly 
visit there, was exceedingly pleasant. 1 was very 



262 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOH>^ B. GOUGH. 

kindly received. In Detroit, two thousand four hun- 
dred and forty-six signed the pledge. At first I was 
very much discouraged in Detroit. I boarded at a 
very poor place, and no one seemed to take an inter- 
est in me or my work. My first speech was in a 
vestry, to a very small audience, and the next day I 
had almost decided to leave, when a lady — Mrs. P. E, 
Curtis — called on me, and found me "deeply, darkly, 
beautifully blue." She encouraged me, and told me 
the upper audience room of the church would be 
open that night for me, and I must remain. So I did; 
and never were audiences more generous and enthu- 
siastic, than in Detroit ; and to this da}^ I anticipate 
my visits to that city with pleasure. On the after- 
noon previous to my departure, an audience of chil- 
dren greeted me, hundreds of whom brought bouquets, 
till I was nearly smothered with flowers. Cards and 
ribbons were attached to them. The flowers have 
Jong since faded to dust, but I have the cards and 
ribbons to-day. The children who assembled then, 
are men and women now ; and it is very pleasant for 
me to hear, as I occasionally do from some lady or 
gentleman, "Mr. Gough, I was one of the children 
who gave you flowers at Detroit in 1850." 

This year passed very pleasantly and peaceably, 
with only the necessary friction attending such a 
course of life and labor. I look back upon those days 
of hard work, with great satisfaction and thankfulness. 
I occasionally visited the homes of the intemperate, 
and often was instrumental in doing them some good. 
I know the term brute is often used in reference to 
the drunkard, but they are not brutes — they are men; 
debased, degraded, and brutalized, if you will; but 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 263 

strip from them the influences Of drink, and we find 
them men; and, in many cases, with hearts as warm, 
feehngs as tender, and sensibihties as keen as others 
possess. Dickens says of Mrs. Todgers, — "She was a 
hard woman, yet in her heart, away up a great many 
stairs, there was a door, and on that door was written 
^wom.an.'" So, in the heart of many a drunkard, 
aw^ay up a great many stairs, in a remote corner, 
easily passed by, is a door. Tap on it gently, again 
and again — persevere — remember Him who knocks 
at the door of your hearts, waiting for an answer, till 
"His locks are wet with the dew," — and be patient; 
tap on lovingly, gently, and the quivering lip, and the 
starting tear, will tell that you have been knocking 
at a man's heart, not a brute's. This power of drink 
to dam and dry up the fountain of love and affection 
in the heart, is one of the reasons why w^e should 
hate it. These men are worth saving. Is it not 
worth some effort to lift the cloud from the home, 
and send a ray of light into the heart and on the 
pathway of those who are bound to them by the ties 
of close relationship and affection ? 

I was once asked by Mr. Grant to call on two young 
ladies, who had desired to see me. I went to the 
house, was shown into a room, and received by a 
young lady who motioned me to a seat. As I sat 
there for a few moments, waiting for her to speak to 
me, I gave a glance round the room. There were 
evidences of better days "lang syne," though I shiv- 
ered, for there was no fire in the grate, and the 
weather was cold, when the j-oung lady said: "Mr. 
Gough, my sister intended to meet you with me ; but 

she has sprained her ankle, and is unable to see you. 
17 



264 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

My mother has been confined to her room for manj 
weeks, and to her bed for some days. 0, sir, it is hard 
for a daughter to speak of a father's intemperance ; 
but what can I do ? I have sent for you as a last re- 
sort. My father is good and kind, when free from 
drink; but when under its influence, is cruel — he ac- 
tually robs us of the common necessaries of life — and 
I would not ask you to sit in a cold room, had we ma- 
terials for a fire." I involuntarily glanced at a piano- 
forte that stood in a corner of the room. She noticed 
it, and said very quickly : " You may think that pride 
and poverty go together ; and they do. You won- 
der why I do not sell my piano-forte. I cannot sell it. 
My father bought it for me on my birthday years 
ago. It is like an old friend. I learned to play on it. 
Mother loves to hear the tunes that remind us of 
days gone by — I fear forever. My father has asked 
me to sell it ; and suppose I did ? It would but pro- 
cure him the means of intoxication for a time, and we 
should be little better for the sale. I cannot sell it. I 
will not part from my piano, unless my father takes it 
away by force." 

I left them. Mr. Grant sent them provisions and 
wood. In a day or two I called again. The father 
was there. After a short conversation he said, to my 
surprise: "Mr. Gough, have you a pledge with you?" 
"I have." "I will sign it." I immediately j)roduced 
it; he at once wrote his name, and stood up, a 
pledged man, no more to drink intoxicating liquor. 
I watched the young girl when' he said, "I will sign." 
She clasped her hands ; with lips apart, her eager 
eyes watched the pen. She seemed breathlessly anx- 
ious, till the name was recorded ; — then she sprang to 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 265 

him^ twined her arms, as well as she could, around 
his neck (she w^as a little creature). How she clung 
to his breast ! Then, unclasping her hands, she said : 
"Oh father, I am proud of you. Mr. Gough, he has 
signed it; and he'll never break it. I know him; 
he'll never break it. No, no, my father will live a 
sober man. 0, father ! father ! '' The tears were rain- 
ing down her cheeks, as he passed his hand caress- 
ingly over her face, when she said: "Father you 
spoke of selling the piano-forte. We can send for 
Leonard, and he will sell it to-morrow, and what it 
brings will pay what we owe, and we shall have some- 
thing to start with again, sha'n't we, father ? " Yes, 
the poor heart was comforted, and she would give 
her piano — her old friend- — cheerfully. Why ? Be- 
cause her father would live a sober man. Oh ! you 
who sneer at temperance, and mock at our pledge, 
come and look at a scene like this! And thank God! 
there have been, and will be many like it. 

There is not a man who has labored in this field of 
reform, but can give you such incidents by the score 
— mothers, sisters, wives, and daughters, lifted from 
despair to hope, from anguish to joy. A lady told me 
her father had been a drunkard for years ; had broken 
his wife's heart ; — she was the only one left of the 
family that seemed to care for him ; and she had de- 
voted herself to him, watching him, nursing him, even 
going to the grog-shop to take him home. Think of 
it! A young daugliter leading home a drunken 
father ! She induced him to attend a lecture I gave 
in Philadelphia, in which I described the sorrows of 
the drunkard's children. He sat there, his hands con- 
vulsively twitching; then turning to her, said, in a 



266 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

choked voice, "Birdie dear, did you ever suffer like 
that with me?" All she could say was, "Oh, father, 
dear father!" "Birdie, I'll sign the pledge; I will!" 
" Oh, father, dear father ! " . At the close of the lec- 
ture, he came up and signed it. "And," said the lady, 
"from that day he never touched it. He lived but 
six years after, and died a sober man." Thank God 
for these green spots, these bright gleams of sunshine 
amid the gloom. I love to call them to mind ; they 
rest me w^hen weary, comfort me in trouble, and have 
many, many times encouraged me when I have been 
despondent. 



CHAPTER XVni. 

Journey to Pittsburg — Work in that City — Panic in Dr. Heron's 
Church — Cincinnati — Dr. Fisher's Church — Wesley Chapel — Wesley 
College — Albums — Return Home — Visit to Halifax — Address to the 
Highlanders — Signs — Speech in Coburg — Tearing my Coat — Flag 
Presentation — Criticisms of Gestures — " The Platform does it " — 
Power of a Theme — Incident in Jersey City. 

The record of the year 1851 is full of incidents, 
but perhaps the relation will not be interesting to the 
reader. I delivered lectures in New York and vicinity, 
with the exception of one week at home, till the 23d 
of January, wheUj having received a pressing invita- 
tion from E. M. Gregory, Esq., and several other gen- 
tlemen, to visit Cincinnati, we started January 28, my 
wife and I, by way of Philadelphia and Baltimore, to 
Cumberland ; there, taking the stage for Pittsburg, in- 
tending to go by boat down the Ohio to Cincinnati, 
expecting to reach that city on Saturday, February 
1st. The roads were in a terrible condition, and we 
were packed nine persons in a stage. Such tumbling 
and jolting, cracking and crashing, I never experi- 
enced. That ride was as disagreeable in all its feat- 
ures as it well could be. Snow and mud in places, so 
deep, that we could make but little headway. AVe left 
Cumberland at eight o'clock, A. m., on Wednesday, and 
by Thursday noon we decided to go to Brownsville, on 
the Monongahcla, and take the boat to Pittsburg; and 



288 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

glad enough we were to leave the jolting stage, the 
wretched roads, and, more than all, the swearing 
drivers. The awful profanity w^e were forced to hear 
was frightful. It surpassed all I had conceived before 
of blasphemy. The wretched fellows seemed to glory 
in it ', and every attempt to check it, only made mat- 
ters worse. Oaths and blasphemous expressions 
seemed to be invented, new methods of profanity 
were adopted especially for our benefit, and we were 
compelled to submit. The boat was ready with steam 
up ; but the ice was making very fast, and progress 
was not rapid. However, we reached Pittsburg in 
the evening of Thursday, January 30. A boat was 
advertised to start on Friday evening for Cincinnati. 
On inquiry, we found she would not arrive till Sun- 
day evening. The course we had adopted, and mutu- 
ally agreed to, was never to travel on the Sabbath 
day, if it was possible to avoid it; so, as we were 
housed at the St. Charles, we decided to send a tele- 
gram to our friends, that we would leave for Cincin- 
nati on Monday, and they must postpone any meet- 
ings they had advertised till we could reach them. 

On Friday some friends of temperance discovered 
that we were in the city, and a deputation waited on 
me to ascertain if I could speak that night, if they 
would get up a meeting. I agreed, and delivered a 
lecture ; spoke again on Saturday ; twice on Sunday 
— in the afternoon at the jail, and in the evening at a 
Presbyterian Church. In the meantime the boat had 
started ; but the ice had formed in the river so rapidly, 
that she was held fast a few miles below the citv, and 
remained almost within sight of Pittsburg till Sunday 
night, when she got out of the ice, and proceeded on 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 269 

her way. We heard afterwards that the passengers, 
some of whom had ridiculed the idea of waiting over, 
because it was Sunday, were much annoyed that they 
had not followed our example. The meetings were so 
successful, that the friends telegraphed to Cincinnati, 
requesting permission for me to remain a week. This 
was granted, and at the expiration of the time, another 
message was sent asking for another week. This 
also was agreed to, and I continued two weeks in 
that city, delivering sixteen lectures there, and in 
Alleghany City, obtaining four thousand three hun- 
dred and sixty-two signatures to the pledge. I had 
provided myself with a large pledge book, in which 
names were recorded. I have three of such books 
now, containing nearly one hundred and fifty thou- 
sand signatures. 

At one of the meetings held in Dr. Heron's church, 
a fearful panic took place. The church was densely 
crowded, and during the exercises, a loud crash was 
heard in the gallery ; instantly there was a rush of 
the people under the galleries to the body of the 
house, and the whole mass became fearfully excited 
— the women screamed, the men shouted, and in the 
midst of the swaying and surging of the crowd, the 
stove was overturned, adding new terrors to the al- 
most frantic multitude. Fortunately the fire was very 
low, and those in the vicinity soon prevented, by their 
promptness, any conflagration. But it seemed impos- 
sible to calm the excited people; some jumped from 
the windows, while many rushed to the doors, chok- 
ing up the passage. I stood in the pulpit ; and never 
did I witness just such a scene. One frantic lady 
rushed up the pulpit stairs, and throwing her arms 



270 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

round me, begged me to save her : " Oh ! Mr. Gough, 
save me ! save me ! " The people in the front gallery, 
knowino; the cause of the confusion — that some one 
had stepped on the big fiddle, which had been left in 
the singers' seats, causing the crash that had startled 
the people into a panic — were shouting : " It's the 
fiddle ! " and amid the shrieks and cries, the ohs ! and 
ahs ! we could distinctly hear, ''Fiddle!'^ "Fiddle!" 
— but had no conception what the fiddle had to do 
with the turmoil. Men stood on the seats, gesticulat- 
ing violently, and, in their attempts to calm the peo- 
ple, only made matters worse. At last one man near 
the desk, commenced singing in a loud voice: "From 
Greenland's icy mountains," etc. ; others joined, till 
quite a volume of voices drowned the din in some 
measure, and order was restored. But there was very 
little more speaking that night. All were in haste to 
get away. On the next morning the scene in the 
church was amusing ; bonnets, hats, capes, skirts, veils, 
strips of silk, shawls, fans, dry goods in any quantity, 
even shoes and boots, were strewed about the floor ; 
to say nothing of pins, buttons, jewelry, hair (not 
quite so much of that as there would have been in 
these days), combs, and various other small articles 
too numerous to mention. A cart was filled with the 
remnants, which were taken to the police office to be 
claimed. There was a ludicrous side to it; yet, 
though no one was seriously hurt, I never wish to see 
such a panic as I witnessed in Dr. Heron's church in 
Pittsburg, in February, 1851. 

We left the smoky, hospitable city, with the best 
wishes of many friends we had made, and arrived at 
Cincinnati two weeks later than we had intended. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 271 

Our visit there was a memorable one. Several times 
I was compelled to obtain an entrance to the church 
by the window. At Dr. Fisher's church, a ladder was 
placed against the window back of the pulpit. I 
hesitated, as the feat of climbing seemed dangerous. 
Dr. Lyman Beecher said: ^^I'll go first; follow me." 
One other gentleman followed, and, encouraged by 
their success, I ventured. It was almost comical to 
see the Doctor drive his hat more firmly on his head, 
as he prepared for the ascent; but, taking a firm hold, 
up he went, chuckling to himself all the way. 

Altogether, I held twenty-seven meetings on that 
visit, principally in Wesley Chapel. • I spoke to fire- 
men, to children, to ladies, and visited schools. At 
the Wesley College I spoke, and was asked by a 
young lady to write the pledge in her "album." I 
did so; when another, and another brought albums, — 
till I had written in one hundred and forty-three 
of these books. I often, on my travels, see one of 
these albums with the writing in it, and it recalls 
very pleasantly the delightful afternoon I spent at 
Wesley College. On invitation, I visited the clas- 
sical school of Mr. Heron, and addressed the hoys. 
At the conclusion of my speech, the young gentle- 
men presented to me, through one of their number, 
in a neat speech, a gold pencil-case, which I prize 
very highly. This little episode was very pleasant 
to me, for a recognition by the youth, of my endeav- 
ors to serve them, has ever been exceedingly gratify- 
ing. On the occasion of addressing young men ex- 
clusively, at the close of my lecture, I invited any 
young man who chose to sign the pledge, to pass 
through the pulpit, and affix his name. More than 



272 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

three hundred young men walked up the stairs on 
one side, descending on the other, leaving their names 
on the pledge, lying on the cushions of the pulpit. 
How many were faithful to the promise they made, 
God knows. Some have kept it, and are thankful 
to-day that they then bade farewell forever to intoxi- 
cating drink. The total number of names obtained 
in Cincinnati during that visit, was seven thousand 
six hundred and forty-nine. 

I continued in Ohio, — visiting Indianapolis, Aurora, 
and Madison, in Indiana, — lecturing constantly till the 
12th of June, when I left Cleveland, reaching my 
home on the 14th, and rested till July 4th ; working 
with an occasional respite, till the 26th ; remained on 
the farm till August 25th, when I left on the steamer 
Europe for Halifax, Nova Scotia. I continued there 
for more than a week, delivering nine lectures. I 
had an opportunity of addressing the famous Forty- 
Second Highlanders, then stationed at Halifax. An 
English paper stated, three years after, that "many 
of the men were all the better for it." 

In passing through the city, T had noticed a sign 
hung up in front of a low drinking house, with a 
daub of a picture, representing a half-intoxicated 
soldier in the Highland costume, a bottle in one hand 
and a pipe in the other; "The Jolly Highland Sol- 
dier," in red letters beneath. In the course of my 
address to the soldiers, I told them what I had seen, 
and asked them if the publican dared to exhibit the 
picture of a drunken lawyer, a drunken doctor, or a 
drunken minister, or even a "Jolly Highland Officer?" 
No ! He associated the Highland soldier with drunk- 
enness. It was an insult to them, and to the "Garb 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 273 

of old Gaul," of which they were proud. The next 
day the sign disappeared. A deputation of the men 
had waited on the proprietor, with a very emphatic 
request that the offending sign should be taken down. 
I heard of a sign that was taken down in Connecticut, 
because it told too much truth. The rum-seller's 
name was Solomon Camp, and being economical of 
space, he directed the painter to inscribe, "S. Camp's 
Tavern." The artist omitted the space and dot, and 
it appeared, "Scamp's Tavern," All have heard of 
the "Seven last Plagues for sale here." A peculiar 
name for a grog-shop is, "The Silent." Another, 
" The Bite Tavern ; " another, " The Shades." One I 
saw was the " Spider ; " and on the blinds was painted 
an enormous web, with unfortunate flies entangled in 
the meshes. 

We left Halifax, by the steamer America on the 3d 
of September, arriving home on the 4th. I went 
again to Canada on the 20th, remaining there, and 
lecturing through the Province, — delivering seven 
more speeches in Montreal, — till November 5th, when 
I returned to New England, concluding the year's 
work at Birmingham, Connecticut, 

The journal of 1852, differs little from the others, 
being simply the record of work. In Connecticut till 
March 18. Afterwards to Canada, till June 26. Then 
home for a rest till September 14. Again spending a 
month in Canada, and from November 11, to the close 
of the year, lecturing in Massachusetts and Connecti- 
cut; finishing the year's work in New Haven. 

In Colburg, Canada, I met with rather a comical 
accident. Speaking with great energy, I made a vio- 
lent gesture with both hands, and tore my coat iu the 



274 AUTOBIOGEAPnY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

back, from the skirt to the collar. When I heard the 
rip, and felt the thing go, I said, without thought, 
" There ! I've torn my coat." The chairman of the 
meeting, who was the Maj^or of the city, quickly re^ 
plied, " I see you have." Th6 audience laughed -, but 
I was in a quandary. I could make no gesture ; I 
could only flap my fins like a fish ; if I attempted to 
stretch out my hands, the abomination came forward 
so absurdly, that I dared not attempt a motion, and 
so concluded my address under some embarrassment. 
The next morning the mayor, with two other gentle- 
men, called on me and introduced a tailor, who took 
my measure, and before I left the city, a committee of 
gentlemen waited on me, and made a formal presenta- 
tion of a new coat, with a neat speech. I was expected 
to reply ; and those w^ho have been placed in a similar 
position will agree with me, that it is a very awkward 
one. "When called on to make an acknowledgment 
to* a presentation speech, you feel half ashamed to 
take the gift; you feel grateful for the kindness; you 
hardly know how to express yourself; fearful of say- 
ing too much or too little. So, when the presentation 
was made, I said: "Gentlemen, I thank you for your 
gift to me; and now, as this is the result of my acci- 
dent, permit me to say, I almost wish I had torn my 
trowsers too ; " — not a very strong expression of grati- 
tude, nor very polite; but the gentlemen took it in 
good part, and we were very merry together for an 
hour. Public speakers are liable to these embarrass- 
ments. 

I was once requested by the committee of a tem- 
perance society at a few minutes' notice, to receive, 
on their behalf, a flag presented to them by the 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGII. 275 

ladies. The exercises were held in a grove, and a 
pole had been erected, that the flag might be dis- 
played immediately on its presentation; a band of 
music was in readiness to strike up, " Our Flag is 
There!" All arrangements were completed ; a young 
lady, bright looking, prettily dressed, and ornamented 
for the occasion, was appointed to present the flag in 
a speech, which she had committed to memory. Un- 
fortunately no one had been appointed to hold the 
flag during the presentation, and as she ascended the 
platform and took her place, previous to her speech, 
the great roll of bunting was placed in her arms. It 
evidently confused her, as she could hardly see ~ me, 
where I stood opposite her, ready to receive it, — the 
huge bundle almost hiding her face. The audience 
were in expectation, when the poor young lady com- 
menced: ^*Sir," — a pause. I bowed. Again, "Sir," — 
I bowed the second time. Then, with a half sob, she 
said softly, " Sir," — to which I replied, " Madam." The 
poor girl looked in every direction, as if for help, but 
none came. She had forgotten every word of her 
carefully prepared speech, and, with tears in her eyes 
— her hands and arms being full, she could use no 
handkerchief — again stammered out, "Sir," — to which, 
with a bow, I replied, " Madam." Some began to 
titter, and the young lady, seeing that the whole 
affair was becoming ludicrous, sobbed out, " Sir, — 
here — here — here's the flag!" and, rolling the im- 
mense mass of red, white, and blue bunting into my 
aritis, — as Dundreary would say, — ^'^wuslied from the 
scene." What could I say, and what was I to do with 
the thing? To escape from the dilemma as speedily 
as possible, I said: "Yes, this is the flag, and there 



276 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHJS" B. GOUGH. 

let it wave/' and tumbled the bunting from the plat- 
form. It was immediately affixed to the halliards and 
run up to the head of the staff. The band struck up, 
the banner floated, and all passed off pleasantly. 

I am reminded by the incident of tearing my coat, 
that I have been criticised severely for the ungrace- 
fulness and violence of my gestures. I do not wish to 
deprecate criticism ; I know I am ungraceful and 
awkward. I once heard a boy say to his companion, 
as they came out from the lecture-room where I had 
been speaking: "Jimmy, did you see him go it with 
his feet?" I never studied the graces of action or 
gesture ; probably I should be more graceful if I had. 
We often acquire unfortunate habits that are hard to 
break. A German in Philadelphia told his employer 
that he was " going to hear dat Mr. Gough, vat dey 
say dalks mit his goat dails." I am aware that I do 
occasionally shake my coat tails. How I acquired the 
habit I do not know ; but I condemn the motion as 
much as any one can, and would be grateful to any 
person who would strike me on my knuckles with a 
stick whenever I " dalk mit my goat dails." I think 
I could not make a speech with my hands tied. I 
have never tried it ; but I will not make excuses for 
my gestures. I am often amused by the committee, 
after erecting a platform perhaps twenty feet by fif- 
teen, asking me "if I should have room enough?" 
or whether the President would be in my way, if he 
remained in the chair. I remember a lecturer who 
was not so fortunate as to draw large audiences, com- 
plaining that they did not give him room enough. 
" Only let me have a platform as big as you give 
Gough, and I will make as good a speech, and draw 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHIT B. GOUGH. 277 

as many people. It is nothing in Goiigh^ — it is the 
platform does it." 

I find people do not generally prefer to sit on the 
stand while I am speaking; perhaps desiring to "see 
him go it with his feet ; " or fearful of being kicked 
off; — and it is dangerous to get too close to me when 
I am " going it." Dr. Beman once, when I was speak- 
ing in his church, stepped very softly behind me to 
arrange a refractory gas-burner, just as I threw back 
my fist, and he received a " stinger " in his face. 
When I felt his hard teeth and soft lips against my 
knuckles, as my hand came in contact with them so 
violently, a chill ran through me; but when I apolo- 
gized afterwards, the good Doctor said, with a smile: 
"Remember, sir, you are the first man that ever 
struck me with impunity." I have found blood on 
my hand more than once, and occasionally a black 
bruise, and I certainly could not tell how it was done ; 
but guessed that, while I was " going it," I must have 
struck my hand somewhere. I have said — and I 
believe — that when a man is thoroughly absorbed in 
his theme, — when his subject fills him, — he will so 
far forget all, and everything, in his intense desire to 
make his audience feel as he wishes them to feel, 
that physical suffering will be not only endured and 
triumphed over, but he may become unconscious of 
pain, in the overwhelming power of his subject on 
himself. I hioio that on the subject of temperance 
I feel what I say. I know it. I must feel on this 
theme deeply. No lapse of time can weaken the 
intensity of my feeling. Burned into my memory, 
are the years of suffering and degradation, and 1 do 
feel deeply, and must ever, on this great question. 



278 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

Sometimes, when speaking on temperance, I seem to 
be absolutely engaged in a battle, the enemy before 
me, — not as a man of straw, but the real, living hor- 
ror; and in the wrestling with that, face to face, hand 
to hand again, — like the blind war-horse when hear- 
ing the trumpet's charge, — rush on. fearing and car- 
ing for nothing, but that I may deal heavy blows, 
and send the fiend away crippled and howling. This 
may seem rhapsody and romance ; but it is true. I 
have forgotten audience and circumstances, sickness 
and pain, under the power of this realit}^ In Jersey 
City, while addressing young men, I felt something 
of this power over me. I was in a pulpit. On either 
side of the desk was a marble scroll, with sharp edges, 
I struck my clenched fist with great force on the 
sharp edge of that marble ; for a moment I saw stars ; 
strange colors danced before my eyes ; but I con- 
tinued speaking more than an hour after the blow. 
When I concluded I dropped on the seat, and the 
minister threw a glass of water on my face, startled 
by my paleness. My hand was frightfully swollen 
and very much discolored ; and before morning every 
nerve from my fingers to my hip, throbbed with pain. 
I had injured the bone of my hand so that for some 
time I could not write without suiFering, and my hand 
is tender in that spot to-day ; — yet while speaking, 
except occasionally a pang reminding me that I was 
hurt, I forget it. I narrate this in illustration of the 
fact that there are times when a speaker, by the over- 
whelming power of his subject on himself, rises above 
even physical suffering. 



CHAPTER XIX. 

Invitation to Great Britain — Mr. Kellogg's Visit — Acceptance of my 
Propositions — Farewell Meetings — Dr. Beecher's Blessing — Depart- 
ure—Arrival at Liverpool — Welcome to England — Work Prepared 
— Arrival in London — Pleasant Impressions — Reception — The Street 
Band — Sight Seeing — Punch and Judy — Exeter Hall — First Speech. 

The next year, 1853, was an important one to me, 
as a new and interesting field of labor was^ then 
opened to me in Great Britain. I had received re- 
peated invitations from the Scottish Temperance 
League, and the British Temperance Association, to 
visit my native country, to deliver a series of lectures 
on temperance. All these applications I declined. I 
had no desire to leave my work in this country, and 
was fearful that my style of speaking would not meet 
with favor there. In the spring, Mr. F. W. Kellogg, 
late Member of Congress for Michigan — now, I be- 
lieve. Senator from Mobile, Ala., — returned from Eng- 
land, where he had spent a year, delighted with his 
reception in that country, and commissioned, as he 
said, not to leave me till I had consented to go. He 
came to my house, and informed me that until I gave 
him my promise to go to England, under the auspices 
of the London Temperance League, ho should be a 
permanent boarder. I at first told him it would be 
impossible; my engagements did not admit of it; 
that it was a thiug not to be thought of at present; 
18 



280 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHX B. GOUGH. 

that probably a day would come when all difficulties 
w^ould be removed; and I could go, but not now. Mr. 
Kellogg was not to be discouraged, and renewed the 
attack, and we — he, my wife, and I — argued the sub- 
ject for hours. At length — more to get rid of the 
importunity, than with any expectation that the 
League would accede to my terms — I made a propo- 
sition, that as I generally had ten or twelve weeks in 
the summer for rest, I would spend them in England, 
on condition that the London Temperance League 
should defray our expenses to England and back — al- 
lowing us one week for Paris, and one week for my 
native village, — with all expenses while there ; and I 
would give four weeks' service to the League. I told 
Mr. Kellogg " that was a settler, and I should not hear 
from the League again." He and I both wrote at 
once, and to my surprise, I received a letter promptly 
from the League, acceding to my terms, only stipulat- 
ing for six weeks instead of four. I had, accordingly, 
nothing left me but to go. The time appointed for 
our departure was the 20th of July, expecting to re- 
turn home by the last of October, to resume my work 
here ; and proposing, if I failed — which I fully ex- 
pected — to return in the ship that should take us out. 
I continued my work in New York, New Jersey, Con- 
necticut, and Massachusetts, till the 4th of July, when 
I made my last speech previous to my departure, — 
with the exception of a farewell address to my friends 
and neighbors, in a grove near my residence, at which 
the venerable Dr. Beecher, who was at that time my 
guest, was present, — and prepared for the voyage. 
I was striving hard to pay for my home, and as I had 
determined to return at once, should my speaking 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOH^ B. GOUGH. 281 

fail to be received with approval, I borrowed two 
hundred and fifty dollars, that I might have sufQcient 
funds to be independent of the League. 

On the 19th of July, we left home for Boston, being 
invited by Mr. Grant to spend the last evening at his 
house. Several true, tried friends met us there. The 
venerable Dr. Lyman Beecher, who had for years 
been my friend, and almost fatherly in his friendship 
towards me, came with his wife to give us their lov- 
ing, parting words. I said to him : " Doctor, I have 
paid my passage to England, and feel as if I could 
pay just that price over again, if I were detained — 
if something would occur to keep me back." He 
asked why I was afraid to go. I said: "The English 
and Scotch people require argument; I cannot argue, 
for I want logic; I am no logician, I have no educa- 
tion. I can only tell them just what I believe to be 
the truth in my own way, and I fear I shall not suc- 
ceed, — but I'll tell you what I've done. I have 
money in my possession, (I had to borrow it,) and as 
soon as I make my first speech, if it is not well re- 
ceived, I shall come back again." He said,: "John, 
my son, don't fear; I have prayed for you, — if the 
Lord go not up with you, to send you not over, and 
I mean to pray for you while you are gone. Go, and 
in God's name, talk to the people, and if it is His 
will that you do anything for His cause, leave it with 
Him. Go, and the blessino; of an old man o-o with 
you." As I grasped his hand, I said, "I will go." 
He gave me a letter, in case it should be of any ser- 
vice. I also received an ailoctionate letter from my 
pastor. Dr. Kirk, and on the 20th of July. 18-33. my 
wife and I sailed in the steamer America for old Kn^- 



282 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOH:^ B. GOUGH. 

land. The voyage passed as other voyages do, and 
I will not add to the long list of chronicles of an At- 
lantic voyage. My wife suffered severely from sea- 
sickness. I escaped altogether. 

We arrived at Liverpool on the eve-ning of Satur- 
day, July SOth, too late to go ashore that night. On 
Sunday morning, bright and beautiful, while the 
church bells were chiming for service, the customs 
officers passed our luggage, and we stepped into the 
tender. We had noticed two or three gentlemen 
curiously eyeing the group of passengers gathered on 
the saloon deck, and as we stepped into the tug, one 
of these o;entlemen came to us and said: "Mr. Gouo;h?" 
" Yes, sir." " Welcome to England." This was Smith 
Harrison, Esq., who from that time, proved himself 
our true friend, and was frequently our generous host. 
A bundle of letters was handed me, and it seemed 
odd that I should receive so many letters immediately 
on my arrival. They also gave me at once a schedule 
of the ap|)ointments made for me. I was to speak in 
London on Tuesday, August 2d, and the three follow- 
ing days — the first in Exeter Hall, next in Whitting- 
ton Club Room, again in Exeter Hall, and Friday in 
the Club Eoom. They had then placed me for Chard, 
one hundred and eighty-five miles from London, on 
Saturday, and had made a continuous list of appoint- 
ments stretching on through the month, for every 
day except Sunday ; — so there was work before me. 
Our luggage was soon conveyed on shore, and Mr. 
Harrison escorted us to the house of Charles Wilson, 
Esq., five miles from Liverpool, where we were to re- 
main till Monday, and then proceed to London. What 
a ride that was! How it brought back to me ^o viv- 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOH:^^ B. GOUGH. 283 

idly old boyish associations^ — the roads, the hedges, 
the English accent, — all was new, and yet familiar. 
What a chamber of peace we entered in that hospi- 
table "Friend's" house. On looking out of the 
window, I saw a thrush on the lawn, and shouted 
with all a boy's glee, "Mary, there's a thrush!" The 
sweetness, the quietness, the fragrance of that delight- 
ful day at the Elms, — especially in contrast with the 
disagreeables usually experienced on a sea voyage, 
combined with the generous, unobtrusive hospitality 
of our new friends, — made then, and left ever after, 
pleasant impressions. 

On Monday we left by express for London, the 
Committee there being telegraphed the time of our 
starting, and the number of our carriage. I shall not 
describe our journey. Those who in their manhood, 
visit again the scenes of early life, will understand 
my delight, and those who have looked upon the 
loveliness of English scenery for the first time, will 
imderstand the enjoyment of my wife. After passing 
the manufacturing districts of Lancashire, it was all 
beautiful. Rich, green foliage ; the hedge-rows, so 
new to the eye of an American; clumps of trees, 
artistically planted ; the perfection of agriculture ; 
the magnificent mansions of the landed proprietors ; 
the cottage homes of the laborers ; here and there a 
half-ruined castle, or the picturesque remains of some 
fine old Abbey; presents a panorama conveying to 
the mind an impression of the loveliness of English 
scenery, that will never pass away. Soon after four 
o'clock, r. M., as the train arrived at the Euston Square 
station, we saw a group of gentlemen watching. Then 
they pointed toward us, and all ran by the side of our 



284 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

carriage till we stopped ; the porters opened the doors, 
and our hands were warmly grasped, — first by G. C. 
Campbell, then by William Tweedie, and the rest, 
w^ith hearty welcome. 

It had been arranged that we should at once pro- 
ceed to the house of George Cruikshank, the cele- 
brated artist, where a large number of the friends had 
assembled to greet us. Here I saw many whose 
names were familiar to me from their connection with 
the great reforms, — Lawrence Heyworth, John Cas- 
sell, and others. It was quite a reception ; I had my 
first experience of the formal English method of do- 
ing these things, and I made a sad mistake in my ig- 
norance. The company, after refreshments, were 
seated round the large parlor; there was a little whis- 
pering, when, unfortunately for me,, just as Lawrence 
Heyworth rose and said: "Mr. Gough" — in the street 
before the house, a band of music struck up a lively 
tune. I immediately ran to the window, and began 
to ask questions. " What band is that ? " "A street 
band," was the reply, given very coolly. " They play 
very well, for a street band." "It is tolerable music," 
said the gentleman I had addressed. " How are they 
paid ? " I then asked. " By voluntary contribution ; 
but if you please, Mr. Gough, we are waiting for you." 
I turned, and to my consternation saw Mr. Heyworth 
standing just as he had risen, to give me a speech 
of welcome — and I had interrupted the proceedings 
to talk about a street band. I recovered from my 
confusion, hastily begged pardon, and the exercises 
continued. I replied to the speech, and in such a 
way that the hopes of the committee were consider- 
ablv damoened, and I knew well that there was a 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 285 

feeling of disappointment. But what could thej 
Expect? ^ 

Mr. T. Smith, residing in Hoxton, had made ar- 
rangements to entertain us ; and at a late hour we 
arrived at his house. The next morning w^e w^ere 
out early; and, wishing to visit the office of the 
League, 337 Strand, we took an omnibus. I deter- 
mined to see all I could, and mounted to the top. 
The first place I noticed particularly, was "Bunhill 
Fields." Leaning over to the window of the vehicle, 
I cried out, " Mary, there's Bunhill Fields, where 
Bunyan was buried!" Then we passed the Bank, 
the Mansion -House, St Paul's, Ludgate Hill, Temple 
Bar, to the Strand. Some of the committee placed 
themselves at our disposal, and off we went sight-see- 
ing. I was like a boy let loose from school. The 
very sparrows — London sparrows — had their attrac- 
tion. Soon we came to a "Punch and Judy." "Oh, 
here's Punch — wait — here's Punch!" Our friends 
considered it beneath their dignity to be amused by 
Punch ; but I was determined to enjoy all I could. 
Often I had loitered on an errand, attracted bv the 
fascinations of Punch, when a boy, and had been 
punished for it. Now, man as I was, I could not re- 
sist, nor did I wish to, the inclination to see my old 
friend perform his antics, — just the same — hardly a 
variation that I could detect — for twentv-four vears. 

I think we must have tired our escort. I know 
that I was nearly exhausted before the time of prep- 
aration for the lecture; but I had thouo-ht o"^ that 
less, probably, than any of nw friends. At hist, the 
hour arrived, and we went to Exeter Hall. The com- 
mittee room was crowded. I saw there the venerable 



286 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHX B. GOUGH. 

Dr. Campbell, the champion of the Non-conformists, 
and many other prominent men. James Silk Buck- 
ingham was to preside. I suggested some change in 
the programme, as they had appointed a choir of five 
hundred to sing "See, the conquering hero comes!" 
and I felt as little like a hero, as a man well could 
On ascending the platform I w^as received with a 
song of welcome, and cheers. Such cheering I never 
heard before; it almost took my breath away; and, 
looking over the audience, I saw an immense crowd 
of men and women, evidently on the tiptoe of ex- 
pectation. While Mr. Buckingham was making the 
introductory speech, I reasoned with myself: " Here 
are three thousand men and women, wrought up to 
excitement, and surely doomed to disappointment. 
They expect a flight of sky-rockets, and I cannot 
provide them. No man could address an audience 
like this successfully, while in such a state of ex- 
citement. Something must be done; — when I was 
introduced, I began to speak very tamely, knowing, 
that unless they were let down, no living man could 
speak up to their enthusiasm for an hour and a half; 
so I continued, till I saw the light of enthusiasm fad- 
ing away into disappointment. Then I heard one on 
the platform audibly groan, "Ah! — h — h!" another 
said, — loud enough to be heard, — "That'll never do 
for London." Then I commenced in real earnest; 
laid hold of my theme, and did the best I could. I 
was told afterwards that none but those on the plat- 
form, and directly round me, experienced any dis- 
tressing sensation, — but they did. 



CHAPTER XX. 

Account of Eeception and Speech from a Publislied Work — Invitation 
— Preparations — Results — Extract from the Banner — " The Bane 
and the Antigoat " — " Variety the Spice of Life." 

Nearly a year after, an account of my reception 
and speech was published in a small work, embodying 
an extract from the London Weekly News, by J. 
Ewing Ritchie. I have hesitated about inserting this, 
as it is complimentary, and I may be charged with 
egotism ; but there has been enough in these pages, — 
and there will be more, — of another kind of notice, to 
neutralize this. I wish to give Dr. Campbell's opinion 
as expressed in the " Banner " of the next day. I give 
the extract from the book published in London, apol- 
ogizing for its length : 

We have said that the Committee of the London Temperance League 
were the means of bringing Mr. Gough over to this country. It will 
not be out of place here if we attempt to chronicle the strenuous and 
unremitting efforts they made to ensure Mr. Gough's success. The 
remarkable results which had, for several years, followed the exertions 
of Mr. Gough as a temperance advocate in the United States, induced 
that committee to endeavor to have his valuable services extended to 
this country. As we have already said, Mr. Kellogg was the agent 
employed to induce Mr. Gough to comply with their request. As soon 
as it became known to the committee that that was the case, the com- 
mittee left no stone unturned, and in season and out of season, wore 
most indefatigable in making the British public familiar with the life 
and labors of Mr. Gough. They felt thoir responsibility was groat : 
that they had gone to some considerable expense; that if 31r. Cunigh's 



288 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOnj^T B. GOUGH. 

visit was a failure, they would have to bear the blame; and they wisely 
resolved, that, as far as they individually were concerned, the very re- 
verse should be the case. They determined to use every exertion to 
make Mr. Gough's visit memorable in the annals of the temperance 
cause. For this purpose, a large number of copies of Mr. Gough's 
Autobiography, published as one of the Ipswich tracts, were procured, 
and introduced to the notice of those attending the various May meet- 
ings in London. At the request of the committee, Mr. John Taylor 
kindly undertook to deliver, free of all expense, several lectures on 
"The Life and Mission of John B. Gough," by which means his com- 
ing visit was well advertised throughout the temperance ranks. A cir- 
cular, including the Life of Mr. Grough, was also addressed to the various 
ministers of religion in London and its vicinity. These circulars were 
kindly attended to, and in many cases the visit of Mr. Gough was an- 
nounced from the pulpit. Circulars of a similar tendency were also 
sent to most of the large employers of labor in the metropolis. Atten- 
tion was also paid to the literary profession, — every distinguished mem- 
ber of which received a special invitation ; as did also the entire public 
press. To the provincial journals, as well as to those of the metropolis, 
Mr. Gough's Autobiography was sent, together with an abstract of his 
labors, which, in many cases, was inserted. An extensive system of 
advertising was also resorted to; and thus almost every newspaper was 
induced to spread the knowledge of the intended demonstration in 
every circle, whether high or low, rich or poor. Exeter Hall, and the 
large room of the Wbittington Club, were engaged, and confident with 
joy and hope did the committee await the result. 

At length, July 31, 1853, came, and Mr. and Mrs. Gough arrived 
at Liverpool, where they were warmly received by Smith Harrison, 
Esq., a Liverpool merchant, and other gentlemen connected with that 
town. The electric telegraph conveyed the anxiously-expected intelli- 
gence to London. At an early hour on Monday, August 1st, the 
Committee of the League, with other friends, assembled at the terminus 
of the North-western Hallway. At a little past four, the train from 
Liverpool arrived, and Mr. Gough was received with a brotherly wel- 
come by his fellow-countrymen and fellow-laborers, who accompanied 
him to the house of George Cruikshank, Esq., where the elite of the 
temperance body had been invited, and had assembled to welcome the 
loug-anticipated guest. Oq the following day, August 2d, the first 
great meeting was held in Exeter Hall. It was a day on which much 
depended, — which the committee looked forward to with mingled hopes 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 289 

and fears, — and anxiously regarded by thousands in all parts of the 
laud. It was the day which was to, justify the committee, and to es- 
tablish the reputation of Mr. Gough on English soil. As early as 
four o'clock, p. M., persons were waiting to obtain admission to the hall, 
though the time announced for opening the doors was six, and the pro- 
ceedings did not commence till eight; and no sooner were the doors 
opened, than every part commanding a view of the speaker was immedi- 
ately filled. Never did that magnificent hall — that hall so famed for 
oratory, the effects of which have been felt in the uttermost parts of the 
earth ; so famed for its assemblies, which have com.prised the noblest 
spirits of the age, — never, we repeat, did that magnificent hall present 
a nobler sight ; the benches crowded with living souls showed how deep 
was the interest created by the speaker and his theme; whilst the ban- 
ners of different nations, placed in various parts of the hall, showed 
how universal in its application was the temperance cause. On the 
platform, the national flags of England and America waved harmoni- 
ously together, — as it is to be hoped they may do to the end of time. 
"It was a noble sight," an American said; "to see it would well repay 
a journey across the Atlantic." The united choirs of the temperance 
singing societies of the metropolis, and the Shapcott band occupied the 
center of the vast platform in front of the great organ, — the use of 
which was kindly granted by the Sacred Harmonic Society. The ex- 
citement reached its height when Mr. Gough came on the platform, 
leaning on the arm of the President of the League, J. S. Buckingham, 
Esq., attended by the leaders of the temperance cause, gathered from 
every corner of the land. Description of the scene is impossible; 
language fails. The enthusiasm was unbounded ; many wept for joy. 
At length it calmed down, and after a brief but appropriate address 
from the chairman, Mr. Gough for the first time spoke to an audience 
in his native land. He had left our shores a boy ; he had come back 
to them a man. He had left unnoticed and unknown ; he had returned 
with a world-wide fame. He had gone out poor; he came back rich 
with the blessings of those he had saved from intemperance and sin. 
Ho had sunk into the lowest depths of desnair, and he had ro}ientod 
and gathered strength, and was now rewarded witli the approval of con- 
science, and in his heart the peace of God. It was a night of trial to 
him; yet he was equal to the task. Great as had been the expecta- 
tions created, Mr. Gougli surpassed them all. The vast nniltitude ho 
swayed as with an enchanter's wand. As ho willed, it >Yas moved to 
lau;>;liter or melted into tears. 



290 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHX B. GOUGH, 

All doubt Tanished ; it was felt that he had made good his reputa- 
tion here, — that all that had been promised, he had redeemed. "We 
reprint an article which appeared in the "Weekly News" at the time, 
from the pen of Mr, J. Ev^iug Ritchie, giving an account of Mr. Gough's 
visit, — as a proof of the effect produced on an impartial observer : — 

Excuse us, kind sir, if this week we have no scenes in the House 
to record, — nothing to tell of Parliamentary business and dullness. A 
week of monotonous routine offers little for our pen, and is as weari- 
some a task for us to write as it must be for you to read. Excuse us, 
then, if we take you elsewhere — to one of those popular parliaments 
which are so common in our midst, — the influence of which for o-ood 
and bad no legislation can overlook, — to which often the assembly in 
Palace Yard is compelled to bow. On your right-hand side as you pass 
along the Strand, you see a lofty door, evidently leading to some im-' 
mense building within. It is called Exeter Hall, for it standi where, 
in old times, stood Exeter 'Change, and still has its live lions, which 
are very numerous, especially in the months of May and June. You 
enter the door, and ascend a long and ample staircase, which conducts 
you to the finest public room in the metropolis. What popular passions 
have I not seen here! What contradictory utterances have I not 
heard here! High Church, Low Church, Methodism, Dissent, have all 
appealed from that platform to those benches crowded with living souls. 
From that platform, accompanying that organ, seven hundred voices 
join often in Handel's majestic strains. Underneath me are the officers 
of the various societies whose aims are among the noblest that can be 
proposed to man. Westminster Hall is a fine hall ; but this in which 
I am is eight feet wider than that, — one hundred and thirty-one feet 
long, seventy-six feet wide, and forty-five feet high, — and will contain 
with comfort more than three thousand persons. On the night of which 
I now write, it was well filled by an audience, such as a few years 
back could not have been collected for love or money, but which now can 
be got together with the greatest ease, not merely in London, but in Man- 
chester, in Birmingham, in Liverpool, in all our great seats of industry, 
of intelligence, and life; — I mean an audience of men and women who 
have come to see intemperance to be the great curse of this, our age 
and land, and who have resolved to abstain themselves from all intoxi- 
cating drink, and to encourage others to do so as well. Evidently 
something great was expected. The western gallery was covered with 
tastefully decorated cloth, on which was inscribed, in emblazoned 
silver letters thirty inches deep, "The London Temperance League," 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 291 

with an elaborate painted border, composed of garlands of flowers. 
The royal gallery, and the smaller one opposite, were covered with 
scarlet cloth, on which were arranged rose-colored panels, with the 
words, ''London Temperance League" in silver letters. The front of 
the platform and the reporters' box were also decorated in a similar 
manner. At the end of the royal gallery was fixed a large royal 
standard, the folds of which hung gracefully over the heads of the 
audience. Under the royal standard was placed the union jack. At 
the end of the opposite gallery proudly waved the banner of the 
great Republic of the West. The platform was decorated with flags 
bearing inscriptions of various kinds. Like the stars in the heavens, 
or the sands on the sea-shore, they were innumerable. In front of the 
organ were arranged the choir of the temperance societies, and on the 
floor of the platform were placed the Shapcott family, with their sax- 
horns. 

Why was all this preparation made? For what purpose that living 
multitude of warm hearts? The answer is soon given. 8ome twenty- 
four years back, a poor lad, without money or learning, almost without 
friends, was shipped off to America, to try his fortune in the New 
World. Arrived there, the lad became a man, lived by the sweat of 
his brow, learned to drink, to be a boon companion, — and fell, as most 
fall, — for there is that in the flowing bowl, and in the wine when it is 
red, which few can withstand. Friends left him ; he became an out- 
cast and a wanderer; he sank lower and lower; he walked in rags; he 
loathed life; his frame became emaciated with disease; there was none 
to pity or to save. It seemed for that man, there was nothing left 
but to lie down and die. However, while there's life there's ho^e. 
That man in his degradation and despair was reached; he signed the 
temperance pledge; he became an advocate of the temperance cause. 
His words were words of power; they touched men's hearts, they fired 
men's souls. He led the life of an apostle, — wherever he went the 
drunkard was reclaimed. Zeal was excited ; the spell of the sparkling 
cup was gone ; humanity was saved ; — and now ho had returned for 
awhile to his native land, to advocate the cause which had been a salva- 
tion to his own soul and life ; and tliese men and women, these hopeful 
youths, these tender-hearted maidens, had come to give him welcome. 
Already every eye in that vast assembly is turned to the quarter whence 
it is expected the hero of the night will aj^pear. At length the ap- 
pointed hour arrives. A baud of temperance reformers move towards 
the platform, with the flags of Britain and America waving — as wo 



292 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOH^ B. GOUGH. 

trust they may long do — harmoniously together. We see familiar faces, 
— Cruikshank, Buckingham, Cassell, — but there is one form we know 
not ; it is that of a stranger ; it is that of Gough. A few words from 
Mr. Buckingham, who presides, and the stranger comes forward, — but 
he is no stranger, — for the British greeting, that almost deafens his 
ears, while it opens his heart, makes him feel himself at once at home. 
Well, popular enthusiasm has toned down ; the audience has re-seated 
itself; a song of welcome has been sung; and there stands up a man 
of middle-size and middle-age. Lord Bacon deemed himself ancient 
when he was thirty-one; we moderns, in our excessive self love, delude 
each other into the belief that we are middle-aged when we are any- 
where between forty and sixty. In reality, a middle-aged man should 
be somewhere about thirty-five; and such we take to be Mr. Gough's 
age. He is dressed in sober black ; his hair is dark, and so is his face ; 
but there is a muscular vigor in his frame, for which we were not pre- 
pared. We should judge Gough has a large share of the true elixir 
vitcB — animal spirits. His voice is one of great power and pathos, and 
he speaks without an effort. The first sentence, as it falls gently and 
easily from his lips, tells us that Gough has that true oratorical power 
which neither money, nor industry, nor persevering study can ever win. 
Like the poet, the orator must be born. You may take a man six feet 
high, he shall- be good-looking, have a good voice, and speak English 
with a correct pronunciation ; you shall write for that man a splendid 
speech, you shall have him taught elocution by Mr. Webster — and yet 
you shall no more make that man an orator than, to use a homely phrase, 
you can "make a silk purse out of a sow's ear." Gough is an orator 
born. Pope tells us he "lisped in numbers," and in his boyhood 
Gough must have had the true tones of the orator on his tongue. 
There was no effort — no fluster — all was easy and natural. He was 
speaking for the first time to a public meeting in his native land — speak- 
ing to thousands, who had come with the highest expectations, who ex- 
pected much and required much — speaking by means of the press to 
the whole British public. Under such circumstances, occasional ner- 
vousness would have been pardonable ; but, from the first, Gough was 
perfectly self possessed. There are some men who have prodigious ad- 
vantages on account of appearance alone. We think it was Fox who 
said, it was impossible for any one to he as wise as Thurlow looked. 
The great Lord Chatham was particularly favored by nature in this re- 
spect. In our own time, in the case of Lord Denman, we have seen 
how much can be done by means of a portly presence and a stately air. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. ' 293 

Gougb has nothing of this. He is just as plain a personage as George 
Dawson of Birmingham would be, if he were to cut his hair and shave 
off his mustache. But though we have named George Dawson, Gough 
does not speak like him, or any other living man, Gough is no servile 
copy, but a real original. We have no one in England we can compare 
him to. He seems to speak by inspiration — as the apostles spoke, who 
were commanded not to think beforehand what they should say. The 
spoken word seems to come naturally — as air bubbles up from the bot- 
tom of the well. In what he said there was nothing new — there could 
be nothing new — the tale he told was old as the hills ; yet as he spoke 
an immense audience grew hushed and still, and hearts were melted, 
and tears glistened in female eyes, and that great human mass became 
knit together by a common spell. Disraeli says, " Sir Robert Peel 
played upon the House of Commons as an old fiddle." Gough did the 
same at Exeter Hall. At his bidding, stern, strong men, as well as 
sensitive women, wept or laughed, — they swelled with indignation or 
desire. Of the various chords of human passion, he was master. 
At times he became roused, and we thought how — 

"In his ire Olympian Pericles 

• Thundered and lightened, and all Hellas shook." 

At other times, in his delineation of American manners, he proved 
himself almost an equal of Silsbee. Off the stage we have nowhere 
seen a better mimic than Gough; and this must give him great power, 
especially in circles where the stage is much a terra incognita, as 
Utopia, or the Island of Laputa itself. We have always thouglit that 
a fine figure of Byron, where he tells us that he laid his hantl upon the 
ocean's mane. Something of the same kind might be said to be ap- 
plicable to Mr. Gough; — he seemed to ride upon the audience, — to have 
mastered it completely to his will. He seemed to bestride it, as we 
could imagine Alexander bestriding Bucephalus. 

Gough spoke for nearly two hours. Evidently the audience could 
have listened, had he gone on till midnight. AVe often hear that the 
age of oratory has gone by, that the press supersedes the tongue, that 
the appeal must henceforth be made to the reader in his study, not to 
the liearcr in the crowded hall. There is much truth in tliat ; never- 
theless, the true orator will always please his audietico, and true ora- 
tory will never die. The world will always respond to it. the liuman 
heart will always leap up to it. The finest efibrts of the orator have 
been amongst civilized audiences. It was a cultivated audiem^e before 
which Demosthenes pleaded; and to whom, standing on liars' Hill. 



294 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHX B. GOUGH. 

Paul preached of an unknown God. The true orator, like the true 

poet, speaks to all. He gathers around hnn earth's proudest as well as 

poorest intellects. Notwithstanding, then, the march of mind, oratory 

may win her triumphs still. So long as the heart is true to its old 

instinct, so long as it can pity, or love, or hate, or fear, it will be moved 

by the orator, if he can but pity, or love, or hate, or fear, himself. 

This is the true secret. It is this that has made Gough the giant that 

he is. Without that he might be polished, learned, — master of all 

human lore; but he would be feeble and impotent as — 

" The lorn lyre that ne'er hath spoken 
Since the sad day its master chord was broken." 

It was the same when Mr. Gough visited Scotland. It was said he 
would do for England, but not for the coldly critical audiences of the 
modern Athens. There, however, as here, Mr. Gough found the way 
to all hearts, roused a similar enthusiasm, and achieved a similar suc- 
cess. It was calculated that by the close of the year, Mr. Gough had 
addressed no fewer than one hundred and four thousand six hundred 
persons, and that not fewer than three thousand had taken the pledge 
in consequence of his addresses. In his first visit to London alone he 
had spoken to thirty thousand. 

Perhaps one of the most memorable meetings in connection with Mr. 
Gousfh in Eno;land, was that held in St. Martin's Hall on the evenino; 
of December 28, 1853, when children to the number of one thousand, 
belonging to the Bands of Hope, were present, and when, at the re- 
quest of the committee, the Earl of Shaftesbury presided. At the con- 
clusion of Mr. Gough's address, in acknowledging a vote of thanks, his 
lordship said: "I do not think thanks are due to me for sitting here 
and listening to the most eloquent, touching, convincing, and effective ad- 
dress I have ever heard, or was ever delivered on any other platform, 
and I am sure you will join with me in thanking Mr. Gough — which I 
heartily do — for his efforts; and I thank God, who has brought him to 
this country, as I trust, to do a great work; and I am sure you will 
promise, with me, to do as the children in America have done, — help 
him to the best of our ability. The longer I live, the more I am con- 
vinced that intemperance is the cause of a very large amount of national 
evils, both at home and abroad ; and, unless it is obstructed in its on- 
ward march, it will in this country, as in Australia, prove ruinous to 
society. I feel also convinced that the future destinies of this great 
country are in the hands of such as those who form the majority of the 
present interesting meeting; and it will be by their instrumentaHty that 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHK B. GOUGH. 295 

those evils over whidi we mourn will he ultimately removed. I again 
say, that the future destinies of this land, my young friends, are in 
your hands; and I would therefore exhort you to continue combating 
with those evils which have been so eloquently placed before you this 
evening by our friend, Mr. Gough. We must have by and by a new 
generation of men and women ; and I may say, that such men as Mr. 
Gough — and I may also name Mr. Smithies, the editor of that excel- 
lent little paper addressed to the Bands of Hope — are doing much 
towards bringing about the state of things which will transpire when 
those of us who have passed the meridian of life shall have ceased our 
labors to better the condition of society." 

From London, Mr. Gough has found his way into all our crowded 
homes of busy life. He has traveled over almost all England and Scot- 
land. The chief towns of each county he has repeatedly visited, and 
wherever he has gone, he has received but one kind of welcome, and his 
visits have led to but one result. It has been felt that Mr. Gough 
has opened a way for the propagation of temperance principles in circles 
where those principles had been viewed with indifference, contempt, or 
disdain. Among his auditory have been such ladies as the Duchess of 
Sutherland, the Duchess of Argyle ; amongst his chairmen such noble 
men as the Earl of Shaftesbury, and Lord Robert Grosvenor. Many 
members of our Senate, many of our most popular divines, many of 
our ablest writers, have listened to his addresses; and thus the influences 
of temperance principles have been extended far and wide. As regards 
the temperance cause itself — equally gratifying has been the result. 
Mr. Gough's advent has revived the energy of the temperance ranks. 
The good old cause is again dear ; the old love is again felt ; the old cry 
is again heard ; the old fire is again seen ; the old banner again floats in 
triumph, and complete success seems near at hand ! 

To Mr. Gough himself his tour in his native land must have afforded 
peculiar pleasure. Some of the incidents connected with it must have 
been peculiarly grateful to a mind sensitive as his own. For instance, 
on the anniversary of his birthday, August 22, 1854, a meeting was got 
up by the Temperance Association of the romantic little village in which 
Mr. Gough was born. It was a memorable day for Sandgate. In the 
afternoon addresses were delivered by IMossrs. Geary, IMcCurry, Camp- 
bell, White, and Tweedie, of the Committee of the London Toniporance 
League, to the children of Sandgato and the iuimodiato neighborhood 
who had assembled for that purpose in great numbers ; and at the close, 
each child received from Mr. Gough a copy of his addi*ess to the Bauds 
19 



296 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHIS" B. GOUGH. 

of Hope in St. Martin's Hall. In the evening a public meeting was 
held in the National School-room, which had been kindly lent for that 
purpose by the clergyman of the parish, and at which that able artist and 
zealous teetotaler, George Cruikshank, Esq., presided. To a meeting 
crowded in every part, Mr. Gough delivered one of his most effective 
addresses. The occasion was affecting. It was his birthday. Thirty- 
seven years before, he was a babe ; the cottage in which he was born 
was yet standing; those who knew his beloved mother; those who knew 
him as a poor soldier's boy,— were around him. He had traveled far 
from his early home ; he had dwelt amidst the men and cities of the far 
distant West; he had wandered in the ways of sin — far from peace and 
happiness and God ; he had been steeped to the very lips in poverty, 
and misery, and degradation, and shame, — and yet he had been saved, 
as a brand from the burning ; he had been led back to the narrow way, 
from which he had so long strayed — and saved himself He had been 
enabled to devote to the salvation of others a zeal that never tired, an 
eloquence that never wearied, a tongue that never grew cold or dull. 
At the age of twelve he had gone forth from that village home ; — another 
twelve years, and he had signed the temperance pledge; — another 
twelve, and he was back in his village home again : — and here he was, 
with beauty and fashion and wealth around ; filling bright eyes with 
tears, — softening manly hearts, — teaching the drunkard to burst his 
chains ; or showing the young how alone they could be safe. -- No won- 
der that the scene was one that will not soon be forgotten by those who 
were there ; or that on Mr. Gough himself the effect was great ; or that 
even in his strange career he could find no incident more startling or 
strange. 

And yet, such passages are numerous in Mr. Gough's history. The 
writer will not soon forget almost a similar one, which happened in 
ll Prury Lane, in Dec, 1854. Old Drury was filled with as choice an 

audience as ever gathered within its capacious walls ; for Mr. Gough 
was to give an address, and the Earl of Shaftesbury was to take the 
chair. It is unnecessary to add that Mr. Gough kept up the attention 
of his audience to the very last ; that whether he were grave or gay — 
whether he told the old sad story, or called up smiles in all faces — his 
efforts were equally powerful. So much so, indeed, that the Earl of 
Shaftesbury, in replying to thanks for his conduct in the chair, perhaps 
pronounced the most flattering, yet truthful eulogiums that have ever 
greeted Mr. Gough, The noble Earl referred, in language perfectly un- 
premeditated, yet graceful and expressive, to the delight he had received 



AUTOBIOGEAPHT OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 297 

in being permitted to listen to such addresses as those of Mr. Gough. 
He declared that it was utterly impossible to overrate the value of Mr. 
Gough's labors; — that they were above all praise; and that he deemed 
the preservation of Mr. Gough's health, and his continuance in his ad- 
vocacy of the temperance principles, as essential to the welfare — not of 
England or America alone, but of the whole civilized world. Such an 
allusion to himself in such a place, and from such a man — one of the 
very flower of our aristocracy — was too much for Mr. Gough : the past 
all came back to him again ; all its pain and agony and despair. He 
thought of what he had been in that fearful time ; and then he thought 
of what he was ! — of the peace and sunshine of the present ; and again 
he rose to utter feelings which he could not repress — to say -how bitter 
had been his path — what light and hope beamed on it now, and to re- 
cord his entire consecration to the cause that had done so much for him. 
We need not add that dae scene highly affected all present. *' What a 
sublime man it is ! " said Soyer, the great gastronome, to the writer, as 
they came out of the theater together. The writer felt that this was, 
perhaps, the highest compliment ever paid to Mr. Gough. Soyer enthu- 
siastic at a teetotal lecture, was a sight, certainly, we never expected 
to see. 

And now, in taking leave of our subject, we cannot but express our 
hope that Mr. Gough's feeble strength may be renewed, that his resi- 
dence among us may be continued, and that for many a coming year he 
may preach temperance, and what follows in its train, in his native land. 

The following is an extract from a long article, that 
appeared in the " British Banner/' from the pen of 
Rev. Dr. Campbell : — 

The expectation was obviously very great ; and, if we mistake not, 
a feeling somewhat allied to disappointment ran through the hall on Mr. 
Gough's being introduced side by side with the chairman, whose com- 
manding and dignified presence only tended to make matters worse. 
There was certainly nothing that gave promise of what was to follow. 
There stands before the audience, a man of the most unpretending air, 
apparently about thirty-two, or thirty-three years of age, live foot eight 
inches in height, with a dark and sallow complexion ; very plainly 
dressed ; his whole mien bespeaking a person who had still to loam tluit 
he was somebody. Escaping liis own notice, he has nothing to oxeito 
that of others. Ho might travel from Stoke Nowingtou to Pindioo, 
without attracting a passing glance from oven the keouost of the litty 



298 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHJq" B. GOUGH. 

thousand persoDS lie migbt meet in the way. He might be mixed up 
with an assembly, large or small, without even the most curious — so 
long as he was silent — being induced to ask "who is that?" By a 
shrewd stranger at the first glance, he would probably be pronounced a 
Methodist preacher — say of the primitive class. The cerebral develop- 
ment completely deceives you ; phrenology was never more completely 
at fault — not even in the case of the late far-famed Dr. Andrew Thomp- 
I son, of Edinburgh, whose giant power lay concealed under the guise 

of a mere rough, resolute, common-place citizen — or, perchance, a sturdy 
farmer, who would relish a glass, and a row on market day, without the 
slightest appearance of a logic which was never surpassed, and of an 
eloquence which subdued all before it. The voice of Mr. Gough, too, 
unites to carry on the deception. At the outset it is merely strong and 
deep ; but it gives no sign of the inherent flexibility and astonishing 
resources, both of power and of pathos. It is in perfect keeping with 
the entire outer man ; which, at ease, seems to draw itself up to the 
smallest possible dimensions ; but, when fired, becomes erect, expand- 
ing in magnitude and stature, so as to present another, and entirely new 
man. Mr. Gough is a well-adjusted mixture of the poet, orator, and 
dramatist, — in fact, an English Gavazzi, Gough is, in all respects, — 
in stature, voice, and force of manner, — on a scale considerably lower 
than the great Italian orator. Gavazzi is more grand, more tragic, 
more thoroughly Italian ; but much less adapted to an English auditory. 
In their natural attributes, however, they have much in common. If 
Gavazzi possesses more power, Gough has more pathos. This is the 
main difierence, — the chief ; and here the difference is in favor of 
Gough. Gough excels Gavazzi in pathos, far more than Gavazzi excels 
Gough in power. Then, Gough is more moderate in his theatrical dis- 
plays. He paints much more, and acts much less ; while, as to force 
and general effects, he is, of course, on high vantage ground, speaking 
his native tongue, and among his fellow countrymen. He is, in this 
respect, in England, what Gavazzi would be in Italy. Both find — and 
find to an equal extent — their account in their histrionic manner. 

Last night the address was a succession of pictures, 

delivered in a manner the most natural ; and hence, at one time, feel- 
ing was in the ascendant, and at another, power. His gift of mimicry 
seemed great. This perilous, though valuable faculty, however, was 
but sparingly exercised. It is only as the lightning, in a single flash, 
illuminating all, and gone, — making way for the rolling peal and the 
falling torrents Throughout the whole of last night he addressed him- 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF J0H:N^ B. GOUGH. 299 

self to the fancy and to the heart. "We cannot doubt, however, that 
Mr. Gough is, in a very high degree, capable of dealing with prin- 
ciples, and grappling with an adversary by way of argument ; but he 
adopted a different, — and, as we think, a much wiser course for a first 
appearance. The mode of address is one of which mankind will never 
tire till human nature becomes divested of its inherent properties. He 
recited a series of strikingly pertinent facts, all of which he set in 
beautiful pictures. Nothing could exceed the unity of the impression ; 
while nothing could be more multifarious than the means employed to 
effect it. It was a species of mortar-firing, in which old nails, broken 
bottles, chips of iron, and bits of metal, together with balls of lead, — 
anything, everything partaking of the nature of a missile, — were avail- 
able. The compound mass was showered forth with resistless might 
and powerful execution. The great idea, which was uppermost all the 
evening, was, — the evils of drinking ; and, under a deep conviction of 
that truth, every man must have left the assembly. The conclusion to 
which we have come, then, is that the merits of Mr. Gough have by no 

means been over-rated Oratorically considered,. he is never 

at fault. While the vocable pronunciation, with scarcely an exception, 
is perfect, the elocutionary element is every way worthy of it. He is 
wholly free, on one hand, from heavy monotony ; and, on the other, 
from ranting declamation, properly so-called. There is no mouthing, 
no stilted shouting. His whole speaking was eminently true ; there is 
nothing false, either in tone or inflection ; and the same remark applies 
to emphasis. All is truth ; the result is undeviating pleasure, and 
irresistible impression. His air is that of a man who never thought 
five minutes on the subject of public speaking, but who surrenders 
himself to the guidance of his genius, while he ofttimes snatches a 
grace beyond the reach of art. In Mr. Gough, however, there are 
far higher considerations than those of eloquence. We cannot close 
without adverting to the highest attribute of his speaking : it is per- 
vaded by a spirit of religion. Not a word escapes him which is 
objectionable on that score. Other things being equal, this never fails 
to lift a speaker far above his fellows. 

And now, having ventured to insert in my book, 
and by it, to perpetuate these favorable opinions; 
fearing that I might become pulled up, unless 1 had 
some check, I will here insert another extract, giving 



300 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHK B. GOUGH. 

what an old lady called "the bane and the antigoat." 
William Wells Brown, a colored man, and an escaped 
slave, published a book entitled : " Three Years in 
Europe ; or places I have seen, and people I have 
met." Eight months after my arrival in England, a 
handbill made its appearance, and was posted on the 
walls in North Shields, at the time I was appointed 
to lecture there, containing the following extract from 
William Wells Brown's book: — 

**But the most noted man in the movement at the present time, and 
the one best known to the British public, is John B. Gough. This 
gentleman was at one time an actor on the stage, and subsequently be- 
came an inebriate of the most degraded kind. He was, however, re- 
claimed through the great Washingtonian movement that swept over the 
United States a few years since. In stature, Mr, Gough is tall and 
slim, with black hair, which he usually wears too long. As an orator, 
he is considered among the first in the United States. Having once 
been an actor, he throws all his dramatic powers into his addresses. 
He has a facility of telling strange and marvelous stories, which can 
scarcely be surpassed ; and what makes them still more interesting, he 
always happens to be an eye-witness. While speaking, he acts the 
drunkard, and does it in a style which could not be equalled on the 
boards of the Lyceum or Adelphi. No man has obtained more signa- 
tures to the temperance pledge than he. After all, it is a question 
whether he has ever been of any permanent service to this reform or 
not. Mr. Gough has more than once fallen from his position as a tee- 
totaler ; more than once he has broken his pledge, and when found by 
his friends, was in houses of a questionable character. However, some 
are of opinion that these defects have been of use to him ; for when he 
has made his appearance after one of these debaucheries, the people ap- 
pear to sympathize more with him ; and some thought he spoke better. 
If we believe that a person could enjoy good health with water on the 
brain, we would be of opinion that Mr. Gough's cranium contained a 
greater quantity than that of any other living man. When speaking be- 
fore an audience, he can weep when he pleases ; and the tears shed on 
these occasions are none of your make-believe kind — none of your small 
drops trickling; down the cheeks, one at a time ; — but they come in 



AUTOBIOGKAPHT OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 301 

great showers, so as to sprinkle upon the paper which he holds in his 
hand. Of course, he is not alone in shedding tears in his meetings, — 
many of his hearers usually join him ; especially the ladies — as these 
showers are intended for them. However, no one can sit for an hour, 
and hear John B. Gough, without coming to the conclusion that he is 
nothing more than a theatrical mountebank." 

I was so surprised, and startled at this, knowing 

something of Mr. Brown, and forming a high opinion 

of him, that I almost indignantly denied that he was 

the author of such an ungenerous article, on one who 

had never harmed him, and persisted in my disbelief, 

till a friend sent me the volume, with the following 

written on the fly-leaf: — 

*' M 25, 3d Mo. 

My Dear Friend, — Accept this volume as a token of my deep 
sympathy for the pain caused by the unfounded libel on thy character 
contained therein, and of my sorrow for the infatuation that prompted 
the author to insert it. Thine sincerely, T. R. T. 

Tastes differ, and I suppose there cannot be found 
on this earth, the man who can please everybody ; 
and it is well that it should be so, for "variety is the 
spice of life," and varieties of opinion, give occasion 
for quite an amount of spice in their expression. We 
must take the bitter with the sweet, and be thankful. 



CHAPTER XXI. 

Route to Scotland — Edinburgli — Fete at Surrey Gardens — Visit to 
Sandgate — Old Friends — Old Associations — My Home — The Old 
Nail — Speech at Folkestone — Mrs. Beattie — Reverence Paid to Rank 
— My Father's Clergyman — Return to London — London Fog — 
Christmas at George Campbell's. 

"We were now fairly engaged in constant work. I 
delivered lectures in the principal towns on the route 
to Scotland, and on the 24th of August, we left New- 
castle on Tyne, for Galashiels, near Melrose and 
Abbotsford, where, for the first time, I addressed a 
Scottish audience. After the lecture, we ate salmon 
caught in the Tweed, and heard Burns' songs sung in 
the pure Scotch dialect. We went on to Glasgow, 
and were met by Archibald Livingston, Esq., who con- 
ducted us to our lodcrino-s ; had an immense crowd at 
the city hall ; and, on Saturday, went down the Clyde 
to spend the Sabbath at Kilmun, with Mr. Livingston 
and his family. We proceeded the next week through 
Paisley and Barrhead to Edinburgh. 

I am entering a little more into detail than I in- 
tended; but I wish to record, somewhat minutely, my 
first appeara.nce, and labor in Great Britain. The 
people were very kind to us, and overwhelmed us 
with their hospitable attentions. I became very 
much attached to Edinburgh — "Auld Eeekie," as the 
Edinburghians love to call their beloved citj'. The 
guide-books give a better description of this mag- 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOniN*^ B. GOUGII. 303 

nificent and picturesque metropolis of Scotland than 
I can ; and though we were interested deeply in the 
Castle Hill; Arthur's Seat, the Canongate, Holyrood, 
and all the historical associations clustering round the 
city, we were more interested in the personal friend- 
ships formed, the warm hearts that gave us welcome 
to their hospitable homes. '^Auld Keekie" will ever 
be associated in our minds with Dr. Guthrie, Prof. 
Miller, Thomas Knox, Ebenezer Murray, Rev. W. Eeid, 
and other true, warm friends, — even more than with 
the glorious rock of Dun-Eden, or the couchant lion 
of Arthur's Seat. As I turn over my scrap-books, 
containing notices, more than would fill ten volumes 
like this, — good, bad, and indifferent, — of my work, 
I am strongly tempted to make a few more extracts 
from the journals of such cities as Edinburgh, Glas- 
gow, Manchester, and the like ; and I shall probably 
yield to the temptation, at the risk of having wrong 
motives imputed to me. My first lecture was given 
in Edinburgh on September 1st. The chairman of 
the meeting was Duncan McLaren, the Lord Provost 
of Edinburgh, and the "Scottish Press" devoted a 
large space to a criticism, and report. The "Edin- 
burgh News," the "Constitutional," and other papers, 
contained very full accounts. From Edinburgh we 
proceeded to Liverpool, and spent a week with Mr. 
Harrison ; from thence to London, to attend a tem- 
perance fete at Surrc}^ Gardens on the 12 th. The 
"London Illustrated News" presented its readers with 
a graphic engraving of the procession, and thus spoke 
of it:— 

** By half past eleven — the hour fixed for starting- — there were many 
^ thousands of persons assembled, the parties being conveyed in vehicles 



304 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF J0H:N' B. GOUGH. 

of every character and description, from the aristocratic four-in-hand ba- 
rouche, and the four-wheeled phaeton, down to the more humble pleas- 
ure van and cart, — the vans decorated with banners and everoreens. 
The number of vehicles amounted to several hundred. The ladies wore 
favors of various colors ; but that prevailing, was white, with a virgin 
white artificial rose ; and judging from the number in requisition, the 
artificial flower-makers must have reaped a profitable harvest. The 
gentlemen were decorated with a rose. The procession was formed at 
twelve o'clock, and started, headed by immense numbers of children 
with flags, followed by the adult members of the various societies, with 
their banners and bands of music ; the rear being brought up by open 
carriages, containing the principal officers and advocates of the move- 
ment ; the last carriage, drawn by four horses, and postilion, containing 
Mr. and Mrs. Gough, and the President and Vice-President of the 
League, the Hon. East India Company's band preceding them.'* 

At the Surrey Gardens, I spoke to an audience of 
over seventeen thousand — the largest I have ever ad- 
dressed. The weather was fine, and the day passed 
pleasantly. I spoke in Liverpool, September 15th 
and 16th; Leicester, 19th and 20th; Birmingham, 21st; 
Manchester, 22d ; Eamsgate, 26th; Folkestone, 29th. 
There terminated my first engagement with the 
League. Soon after 1 commenced my work for them, 
they had strenuously urged me to remain, at any rate, 
for one year. I wrote home to cancel, or postpone 
my engagements ; which proposition was acceded to, 
and I agreed to deliver two hundred addresses — they 
offering me ten guineas per lecture, and all expenses; 
to commence with four lectures in London ; the first 
on Monday, October 3d. 

I spent five days in my native village, from Sep- 
tember 28th to October 3d, as the League had ap- 
pointed September 29th for Folkestone. We went 
from Eamsgate to Folkestone by rail, taking an omni- 
bus at the station there, for Sandgate, a mile and a 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 305 

half distant. I sat on the seat with the driver, and 
at once addressed him, " Whose omnibus is this ? " 

" Mr. Yalyer's." 

" Stephen or Tom ? " 

" This is Tom Yalyer's 'bus." 

" What's your name ? " 

"Jim Stockwell; and I used to go to school at 
your mother's." * 

" Do you know me ? " 

"I suppose you are John Gough; we heered you 
was a-coming." 

We chatted of old times, and old people, till we 
arrived at the "New Inn," — it was the "New Inn" 
when I was a boy,— where we took rooms. I was 
too uneasy to remain there, so I strolled out alone, 
to look at the place ; — the same long, straight street, 
the same names on the shop-fronts, — Jemmy Bugg, 
the cobbler; George, the barber; Reynolds, the baker; 
Saunders, the shoe-maker; the Fleur-de-Lis, kept by 
Flisher, as of old ; Draynor, the fish-monger. I might 
have left, but a week ago, for all the change in the 
main street. "There's the castle!" How my heart 
leaped I Our house is just round the corner; but 
there is change here ; what is it ? Ah ! I see now, — 
the village green, where the fairs were held, is gone, 
and there is a large National school in front of " our 
house ; " not so picturesque, but more practical ; yet 
I should have liked to see again, the green where I 
had so often played " cutters," or, " all the birds in 
the air." 

But the house — yes, there it is — the same, the very 
same. The boulders my father had laid so evenly in 
front, — the same lead-colored paint, — no change ; it 



306 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

did not look older, only smaller. I slowly walked by 
it, my heart full, and passed romid by the Inn, once 
kept by Mr. Beattie, — the "Martello Tower," — in the 
tap-room of which I had often "spoken a piece." 
Another name is on the sign — then the Beatties are 
gone! I wandered about till drawn back to the 
house. As I turned the corner, and came in sidit of 
it, I saw a group of wompn near the door. Then I 
heard, "There he is! that's him!" and they came 
toward me. " Why Johnny, don't jou know^ne.^" 
"It is Mrs. Beattie." "Bless his heart — he remem- 
bers me ! " And the dear old lady threw her arms 
|| about me, regardless of the proprieties, — which did 

not disturb me in the least. I shook hands with and 
recognized several ; but dear Mrs. Beattie, who sent 
me the gingerbread and milk on board ship, twenty- 
four years ago, held my hand in hers, patting it, and 
crooning as if I were again "Johnny Gough." "Bless 
his heart — he's got his dear mother's mouth ! — but 
come into the house." I inquired the name of the 
person living there, and was told; and that she ex- 
pected me, and had "tidied up a bit," in view of my 
visit. On entering the room, I stood for a few min- 
utes looking round it ; tears were in the eyes of the 
good women; at last I said, "That cupboard door 
used to be blue*" "Yes," said the woman, "my boy 
thought he'd try his hand at graining ; but it is blue 
underneath the brown;" and actually took a knife 
and scraped off a portion of the "graining," to show 
me the blue. "Where's the trap-door for the coal- 
hole?" "Here! under this rug." "Let me go down 
in the cellar; I want to see the closet where my 
mother ^^tirred me up'" There was the closet- I 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 307 

went into it, and would have been mightily pleased 
to receive the most vigorous '^stirring up" that boy 
ever experienced, could my dear mother be there to 
^^stir me." As I came up the stairs, I said, "There's 
the nail where I used to hang my cap and bag." 
"Yes," said the woman, "and that's the same nail." 
"How's that ?" I asked. "Why, when your poor dear 
mother left the house, she said : ' There's John's old 
cap and bag, that he hung up before he went away, 
and I have never taken them down ; ' and I said : 
^ Well, Mrs. Gough, I'll keep the nail there as long as 
it'll stay,' — and that's the same nail 3 but your mother 
took away the cap and bag." 

As we came out, Mrs. Beattie said: "All the Sand- 
gaters are going to Folkestone, to hear you speak ; 
and / am going, too; and I shall walk." "No" — I 
said — "that you shall not; you shall ride with me." 
I left them, promising to see them again, and went 
back through the dear, familiar street, to the hotel. 
During the day I climbed the hill, went into the 
meadow called the "slip" — where my sister and I had 
gathered daisies and primroses — over to Shorncliffe 
Barracks, where I once went, a little toddling thing, 
to see my father, when his regiment lay there, — and 
I drank in delight all day, in the old familiar scenes. 
The next day, I strolled about, full of thoughts, pleas- 
ant and painful, and, in the evening, rode to Folke- 
stone, to deliver an address in the Harveian Institute. 
One small circumstance occurred, before I came on 
the platform, indicative of i\\Q contempt felt, and ex- 
pressed by certain classes, toward temperance. On 
the table was a goblet of water, with a tumbler 
placed over it, — a would-be fine gentleman stepped 



308 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

forward, and taking off the tumbler, lifted the goblet, 
and placing it to his nostrils, gave a strong sniff, as if 
he suspected its contents. This was done with an air 
of patronizing contempt, and the audience — a j)ortion 
of it at any rate — was delighted with the poor joke. 
My wife, who saw it, said it made her fingers tingle 
with indignation. The meeting passed off, and I 
think at its close, any person would have been hissed 
rather than applauded, for such an attempt at wit. 
The audience, most of them, came from curiosity to 
hear the ^'Sandgate boy" speak, and they listened 
with apparent interest. 

On Friday, we were invited to take tea at Miss 
Purday's, who kept the library and reading-room, she, 
with her sister, having succeeded the old gentleman, 
who died some years before. When I was a boy, I 
was often employed to clean shoes and knives by Mr. 
and the Misses Purday, and now I was invited there 
to tea! I was never in their parlor but once before, 
and then it was when desirous of obtaining; a situation. 
I met a gentleman who wished to engage a boy to do 
odd jobs about the kitchen, — and I well remember 
how I wore my "Sunday things," and what an im- 
pression I had of the glory of that parlor. I asked 
Miss Purday about Mrs. Beattie, and ascertained she 
was very poor; her husband had failed in business, 
the railroad had ruined the "posting," and he de- 
pended very much on the profits from the hiring of 
"post-horses" — he was now suffering from the effects 
of a paralytic attack, and they were much reduced in 
circumstances. Miss Purday said she had asked the 
old lady to come in the evening and see me there. 
She carue, and a very pleasant evening we spent, 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 309 

talking over old times. When she went out, I fol- 
lowed her to the hall, and, putting five sovereigns in 
her hand, asked her to take them from me, for I was 
in her debt. "Goodness me! what for?" "Don't you 
know? — for a bottle of milk and some gingerbread 
you sent me twenty-four years ago." I will not write 
all she said to me ; but I ascertained she was in debt 
for coal, rent, groceries, and the like • so I requested 
Miss Purday to collect the bills, which she did, amount- 
ing to £28 sterling. These I paid ; and from that 
time to her death in 1864, 1 sent her, through Mr. 
Tweedie, of London, <£10 every Christmas-day^ in part 
payment for the milk and gingerbread. 

These few days in my native village were a per- 
petual feast to me. I have forgotten to state that 
my father had followed me to England, and was with 
us in Sandgate. I expect I offended the old gentle- 
man by a want of proper respect for the son of his 
old master. As we were walking down the street 
together, he said, "John, here comes Mr. Denny, the 
son of my master." As we came up to him my flither 
lifted his hat, and said, "Mr. Denny, this is my son, 
John Gough, from America." Looking at something 
beyond me, the young man said, carelessly, "Hoay do 
Gough?" To which I replied, just as carelessly, 
" How do, Denny ? " and walked on. My poor father 
was quite shocked ; and perhaps I did not do quite 
right ; but at any rate I w^as fully as civil to him as 
he was to me. When I was a boy there was a great 
reverence paid to rank and station. The aristocracy, 
gentry, and clergy, expect^ed the "common people" to 
take off their hats when meetino; them ; but this has 
died out very much, together with other obsolete cus- 



310 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

toms^ "more honored in the breach than in the ob- 
servance," in my opinion. I well remember, in that 
very street, thirty years before, my little sister and I 
were crossing just as a curricle was passing, when the 
driver wantonly and cruelly brought the lash of his 
whip across the white shoulders and neck of my sis- 
ter. She screamed with the pain, and we both ran 
crying home. My father was very angry, and asked, 
"Where is the man who struck her ? " We told him 
he was in one of Mr. Eeynold's gigs. Taking us 
children with him, he went at once to Mr. Kejmolds, 
who kept livery horses, and a pastry-cook's shop, and 
there we found the little dumpy animal — I think I 
see him now I — stuffing himself with cheese-cakes. 
My father, approaching him, as we told him that was 
the man, said, "Look here, you, sir — why did you 
strike this child with your whip ? " The little wretch 
lifted his eye-glass, and, impudently staring at my 
father from head to foot, turned to Mr. Reynolds — 
who stood smoothing down his hair, as if to prevent 
its standing with fright at my father's temerity — and 
drawled out, " Who the devil is this fellow ? " " Fel- 
low ? " said my father, clenching his fist, " I'll fellow 
3^ou ; come out of the shop and I'll show you who's 
the fellow." Mr. Reynolds hastily came to him, and 
said, in a low tone, " Mr. Gough, that's Lord so-and- 
so." Why did my father drop his clenched hands 
and quietly walk out of the shop with his two chil- 
dren ? Because he recognized the title as belonging 
to one who had influence at the " Horse Guards ; " 
and rather than run the risk of losing his hard-earned 
pension, he did as you and I probably would have 
done, — bore the insult, that he might secure bread for 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 311 

his children ; and bread was hard for him to get in 
those days. Remember, this was nearly forty-five 
years ago ; now, and even when I was there sixteen 
years since, no soldier would risk his pension by hioclc- 
ing down any lord who had insulted him. I found 
many changes ; though few among the people who 
were our neighbors when I was a boy. 

My father's landlord was a parson,— not a very fine 
specimen of a clergyman, and one that would not be 
tolerated for a day at the present time. I have heard 
him use very profane language. He would set boys 
to fight, or run races. On one occasion, in urging 
one boy to go faster, he said: "Run, you little devil, 
- — run, or I'll — ," the rest I will not write. He was 
rector in one parish, and curate in another. He held 
his rectorate some miles from his curacy, and would 
ride over on certain occasions to officiate. One Sun- 
day his congregation amounted to six persons, besides 
the clerk and sexton, — or whatever they call him. 
He then made them a proposition, — that he would 
either officiate, or give them a shilling each, for beer 
to drink his health at the public house, urging them 
to accept the shilling, as it was worth more than anj^- 
thing they would hear from him. This man was un- 
frocked not long after. This was more than forty 
years ago. 

In all my contact with clergymen in England, 1 
was treated with the utmost courtesv; and 1 believe 
there is not a more devoted class of men in the world 
than can be found anion 2: the clero-vmen of the E^^- 
tablished Church. For the promotion of the temporal 
and spiritual welfare of their charge, for persevering, 
self-denying efforts to inculcate true religion, for hard 
20 



312 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHJJT B. GOUGH. 

work among their people^ in season and out of season, 
for the Master, they are not excelled by clergymen 
of any denomination in any country. 

On Monday, October 3d, we left Sandgate for Lon- 
don, to commence my work for the League, under the 
new arrangement, and gave four addresses tliere, — 
two in Exeter Hall, one in Sion Chapel, the other in 
Music Hall, Store Street. From London to Chatham, 
Canterbury, and Ashford. While there, I rode five 
miles to Braybourne, and visited my mother's birth- 
place ) then to Brighton, Bath, and other places — 
such as Gloucester, Cheltenham, Norwich, etc. ; again 
to London, November 18th, for four more lectures — 
three in Exeter Hall, 'the other in Store Street. My 
first experience of the celebrated London fog was on 
the evening of November 22 d, in Exeter Hall, where 
in twenty minutes from its first appearance, I could 
scarcely see the people in the gallery. I have tried 
to describe it, but failed to convey any idea of its 
true and odious nature, to those who have never ex- 
perienced it. And yet, I enjoyed some features of 
it; the bewilderment, — when, within a street or two 
of your residence, you are completely lost and con- 
fused, — has something of a comical side to it, and we 
occasionally see the temperaments of men developed 
in the different conduct of different individuals under 
the same circumstances. One man stumbles ao-ainst 
another: "Ah! I beg your pardon, ha! ha! very 
thick to-night." Another couple meet : " Now then, 
now then, that's the third time I've been run into." 
A third couple come in contact, and perhaps it is : 
"Confound you, where are you driving to — can't you 
seef'^ But Londoners become used to their fog — 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 313 

men can get used to anything. A man in New Hamp- 
shire had become so used to matrimony, that on the 
occasion of marrying his fourth wife, when the minis- 
ter requested the couple to stand up he said: "I've 
usually sat." 

We left London to visit the Provinces, — as all Eng- 
land out of the metropolis is called — returning De- 
cember 24th. We visited Sheffield, and while there, 
called, in company with Daniel Doncaster, who was"** 
our host, on the venerable James Montgomery. He 
received us very cordially, and we spent an hour with 
him in delightful conversation ; on leaving, he shook 
hands with us heartily, and expressed his deep inter- 
est in America, and her prosperity. Pie very kindly 
gave me four original verses on different sheets, as 
autographs, one of which, with John B right's, I sent to 
the Sanitary Fair, at Albany, during the war. I have 
two remaining, which I prize very highly. 

We kept our first Christmas at George C. Camp- 
bell's, with a large party of friends. I spoke in Exeter 
Hall on the 27th and 29th ; in St. Martin's Hall on 
the 28th ; and left for Scotland, arriving in Edinburgh 
on Friday the 30th ; and delivered an address on the 
last day of the year, in Queen Street Hall. So ended 
the year 1853 — long to be remembered by me with 
delight and thankfulness. 



CHAPTER XXII. 

Places of Interest — Brymbo Hall — John Bright — The Soldier and his 
Wife — Second Visit to Sandgate — Newstead Abbey — Vandalism — 

* Farewell Addresses — Departure for America — Review of Work — Ar- 
guments for Drinking — Scriptural Arguments — Murray's Lectures. 

The next jear, 1854, I was employed constantly 
in the principal cities and towns in England and Scot- 
land; visiting, as occasion offered, the objects of in- 
terest, — castles, abbeys, ruins, gentlemen's seats, and 
the places made memorable by the famous men who 
had inhabited them, — all of which are fully de- 
scribed in the journals of the tourist. Scotland was 
full of interest to us. When in Edinburgh I procured 
"Chambers' Chronicles" of that city, and would read 
awhile and then start off to visit the places men- 
tioned. Cardinal Beaton's house in the Cowgate, at 
the foot of Blackfriars' Wynd ; John Knox's house in 
the High Street ; the old palace of the Dukes of Gor- 
don in the Canongate; sometimes to Holyrood ; and 
again through the Canongate down the West Bow, to 
the famous spot where so many of the true, and the 
brave, "Glorified God in the Grassmarket ; " or the 
old church-yard where the Covenanters signed their 
famous document; then away to Arthur's Seat, where 
Jennie Deans met her lover; or perhaps take a run 
out to Craigmillar Castle, to muse of Mary and her 
fortunes. In fact, Scotland was full of historical 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. COUGH. 315 

associations, and no one should visit that portion of 
Great Britain unless well posted in her history. A 
favorite walk of mine, v/as from Holjrood, up the 
Canon o;ate, throusrh the Hio[:h Street and Lawn Mar- 
ket, to Castle Hill, by the Duke of Argyle's residence, 
and St. Giles' Church, where Jenny Geddes threw the 
stool at the head of the minister. 

We remained in Scotland from January 1st to 
March 6th, when we left for Carlisle, Newcastle, and 
Sunderland, to Darlington, where we spent a few 
days at "Polam House," with the Misses Proctor, and 
visited ^^E>a.by Castle," the seat of the Duke of Cleve- 
land ; then to Hull, where we first met Rev. Newman 
Hall; on through Lancashire, to Liverpool; then to 
Chester and Wrexham. We had received an invita- 
tion from W. H. Darby, Esq., of Brymbo Hall, to 
spend a few days at his residence with «ome friends, 
— among them John Bright. We were at Brymbo 
Hall five days. I spoke at Wrexham April 12tli and 
13th, returning to Mr. Darby's each evening after the 
lecture, most of the party accompanying me. Mr. 
Bright presided at one of the lectures. I had met 
him previously at Rochdale, where he had taken the 
chair at a meeting I held there. We enjoyed our 
visit exceedingly. Good Friday fell on the 14tli of 
April that year, and the day was devoted to an ex- 
cursion among the mountains, and afterwards a din- 
ner given to Mr. Darbj-'s workmen, employed in his 
large furnaces. Mr. Bright spoke to them, and 1 said 
a few words afterwards. We attended Quaker ser- 
vice in the laro-e drawino'-room on Sunday, and left 
by way of Southport, Liverpool and Blackburn, to 
London. While at Brymbo Hall, I asked ISlv. Bright 



316 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

if he would write a few lines in a commonplace book 
I had with me, in which many of my friends had 
written. He complied, and wrote the following. I 
insert it, as I consider it well worth preserving : — 

The History of the United States is the history of a great nation 
which, with a daring equal to that of the navigator who first discov- 
ered her shores, traverses the political ocean, guided by the wrecks 
of systems that have failed, and by the principles which monarchs and 
statesmen have scornfully rejected. The American Commonwealth is 
not a copy, it is a great original, — it treads a path all but untrodden 
by every other State, and makes discoveries which heretofore historians 
in their brightest pages have not recorded. John Bkight. 

On a visit to Brymho Hall, Denbighshire, 4dh mo., 16th, 1854. 

We reached London on Saturday, April 22, where I 
remained three weeks, and delivered twelve addresses, 
six of them in Exeter Hall, and left on the 13th, to 
attend the anniversary of the Scottish Temperance 
League — one of the best organizations for the promo- 
tion of temperance in the world. On the Sabbath 
previous, sermons on that theme were preached in 
most of the churches. On Monday was the grand 
soiree, at which tea, cake, services of fruit, with music 
and speaking, were provided ; on Tuesday morning, a 
public breakfast, connected with which is the annual 
business meeting of the members ; — and most inter- 
esting these meetings were. After two lectures in 
Glasgow, we returned to England, spending some 
time in Wales, Cornwall, and Devonshire. As I was 
passing to the Institute at Devonport, I saw standing 
near the entrance a soldier with the two XX's on his 
cap, and a nice-looking woman on his arm. As I 
came up he looked at me very wistfully, and, noticing 
his cap and the number of his regiment, I asked him : 
"Was you not stationed in Montreal when I was 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 317 

there ?" " Yes, sir — and I signed tlie pledge, and have 
kept it." His wife then said : " Yes, that he has, sir!" 
I then asked : "Are you going into the Hall?" "We 
can't get in, sir. I obtained leave of absence, and 
came with mj missus ; but they tell us it is full, and 
we are very sorry." I said : "Wait a minute ; and I 
went to the door-keeper. " Can you not let this man 
and his wife pass into the hall ? " " No, sir ; my orders 
are to admit no more, as there was great complaint at 
the overcrowding, last time you was here." " But," I 
said, " this man is a soldier, who has leave of absence 
for to-night, and has come with his wife ; I hope you 
will let him in." But the door-keeper was firm ; he 
had his orders, and could do nothing in the matter ; 
so I speedily found the committee, and stated the case. 
They were not to be moved ; the man and his wife 
could not be admitted. I pleaded that there were 
only two of them ; — they would not take up much 
room. The reply was, that if they let these in, they 
must admit others, who were shut out. At last I said, 
as I was determined the soldier should be admitted : 
" I very much wi^h this man to go in w^ith his wife, 
and you must let them pass, or I will not go in my- 
self; so if you keep them out, you keep me out." 
" Oh ! sir, if you put it on that ground, I suppose they 
must go in." And go in they did. 

We passed through Cornwall, down to Penzance, 
then back through Chard, to Southampton, where we 
took the boat for the Channel Islands, and spent a 
week at St. Heliers, in the Island of Jersey : re- 
turned through Manchester to London, (whore 1 de- 
livered thirteen lectures), and attended a monster lote 
at Surrey Gardens; then left for Sandgate on the 



318 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF J0H:JT B. GOUGH. 

16th, intending to spend a week in my native village. 
My birthday was on the 22d, and a party of gentle- 
men had agreed to come down from London at that 
time, and make a gala day of it, arranging for a lec^ 
tm^e from me that evening, in the school-house op- 
posite the old house where I was born. I spent the 
time in exploring the vicinity, and visiting my old 
haunts ; walked to Folkestone by the same path along 
the cliffs I had so often walked when a boy ; tried to 
find the old school — but that was gone \ v/andered 
about the beach -, then took rides to Saltwood Castle, 
and other points of interest; and enjoyed this second 
visit to Sandgate exceedingly. On Sunday, I a1> 
tended the little Methodist Chapel, where I pulled 
off Billy Bennett's wig thirty years before. On 
Tuesday, my friends came down from London by the 
first train, and we spent the day among the scenes of 
my early life. I escorted them to the house, and 
almost took the old lady who lived there by storm, as 
George Cruikshank, William Tweedie, G. C. Campbell, 
J. Ewing Ritchie, Thomas I. White, and several others 
entered the little room. As we all stood together, I 
gave them many reminiscences of the old days ; — told 
them of my mother and her struggles ; showed them 
where she sat when she came from Dover, so weary, 
having sold nothing. Yes, she sat there ; — I can see 
her now, — her bonnet dusty, her shoes broken, her 
poor weary head resting on her toil-worn hands, and 
the tears coursing down her cheeks ; and after telling 
them how, when I gave her the money I had received 
for reading, she let me take the half-penny for my- 
self, I said, "Come, gentlemen, I will show you where 
I spent that money." _So over we went to Mrs. Bey- 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGII. 319 

nolds, and I said: ^"Mrs. Reynolds, these gentlemen 
are from London, and I have been telling them about 
my mother. Do you remember when I got five shil- 
lings for reading, and mother gave me a half-penny, 
and I came over here to spend it?" "Yes," said the 
good old lady, " yes, I remember that ; and how you 
came over here, as if you \vere going to buy up the 
shop, and said — ' Now Mrs. Reynolds, I want a farden's 
worth of crups and a farden back.'" ^ 

In the evening, the meeting was held, and I shall 
never forget it. There were the boys who had played 
with me, and had been my mother's scholars, now 
men, and their children with them; the old people 
that had been kind to me ; some of the gentry, 
with the clergy of the place. Plow fast I thought 
and how rapidly I spoke, and hov\^, at times, I was al- 
most broken down by the intensity of my emotions, 
I cannot chronicle. I have, perhaps, occupied too 
much space wdth the records of my home visits, and 
in speaking of my mother, and some may be impa- 
tient. A newspaper writer said, in an article on me : 
"We should like John B. Gou^h better if he would 
not talk about his mother. Wliv does he not talk 
about his aunt, for a chano;e?" 1 can irive a o'ood 
reason for that, — I never had an aunt. If 1 had, and 

« 

she had been to me what mv mother was, 1 should, 
most likely, say a great many things about my aunt. 
On the 24th we started again, and visited Birming- 
ham, Avhere we were the i>:uests of Joseph Stiu'ire. one 
of God's noblemen. ITis record is written on manv 
hearts, and in Heaven. That glorious lace looks 

* When we went back to the house, George Cruikshank made a rapid, but 
\ery truthful sketch of the old place, >Yhich is inserted on page 40. 



320 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

down on me now from the w^alls of my library. We 
made an excursion wdth him to Warwick Castle, 
Guy's Cliff, and Kenihyorth. What a sunny day that 
was! We thoroughly enjoyed every hour. Then we 
passed to Sherwood Hall, near Mansfield, Notting- 
hamshire, and were entertained by Wm. Wilson, w^io, 
with his interesting family, became my true friends ; 
visited Newstead Abbey, and the forest w^here Kobin 
Hood roamed. On the occasion of this jaunt, the 
ladies proposed a walk. '^ Where shall we go ? " 
"Would you like to visit Newstead Abbey?" ''Yes, 
indeed, I should be much pleased to see Byron's resi- 
dence. How far is it?" " Only seven miles," was the 
reply. " But," I said " you surely wdll not w^alk that 
distance?" "Assuredly we shall; but we will order 
the basket-carriage for you" There was some diffi- 
culty, at that tune, in obtaining entrance to the Ab- 
bey and grounds, and had not Mr. Wilson sent a mes- 
sage to the proprietor, with whom he was acquainted, 
we should not have been admitted ; esjDCcially as we 
were Americans. The reason of this w^as explained 
by the head gardener, who conducted us through the 
gardens. Standing by the tree w^iere Byron had 
carved the words "Byron — Augusta" on the last day 
he spent there, he said : " A party of five — two gen- 
tlemen and three ladies — came to see the place. I 
escorted them. They were full of admiration for the 
tree, and the carving, — especially the ladies. After 
we had left, and were looking at the fish-pond, I 
missed one of the ladies from the party, and inquired 
where she w^as. A gentleman said, ' She will be here 
in a minute.' Something in his manner convinced 
me that all was not right, and I immediately went 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 321 

back to the tree^ and — would you believe it, sir? — 
there was the lady with a knife she had obtained 
from one of the gentlemen, trying to cut out the 
bark his lordship had carved. You can see the 
marks of the knife now. I went back to them, and 
told them to leave the premises at once. When I in- 
formed the colonel, he was in a terrible rage, and 
swore he w^ould set the dogs on them if they ever 
came again; and since then, he does not like to admit 
any Americans to the Abbey. It was a very cruel 
thing, sir; — don't you think it was?" 

I told him I thought it was a wanton and wicked 
outrage. But I must not chronicle every home we 
found, and every friend we made. That would fill 
more pages than this book contains, — and I pass on. 

I commenced a series of addresses in Scotland, the 
first in Glasgow, September 26, continuing on till 
December 8th, when we ran up to London, for ten 
lectures, and Christmas at George Campbell's, return- 
ing on the 30th of December for the great New 
Year's festival at EdinburQ;h. The remain iuo- seven 
months we spent in Great Britain, were fully em- 
ployed : in Scotland till March 1st ; then up to Lon- 
don, passing through Hull and Leeds, delivering nine 
lectures in the metropolis; back again through Bir- 
mingham, to Scotland, speaking there from April 5th 
to May 25th; again to London, for seven addresses; 
after that, in Lancashire till July 19th, when we re- 
turned to London for the farewell addresses there, and 
in the vicinity. A devotional meeting of great inter- 
est was held in the Poultry Chapel, and the last ad- 
dress was delivered in London, July oOtli. 1 spoke 
in Manchester, August 1st, Liverpool, August 2d, and 



322 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

on Saturdajj the 4th, we sailed by the steamer Amer- 
ica for home. A large number of friends accompa- 
nied us to the ship, and amid cheering and waving 
of handkerchiefs, with some moisture in the eyes, we 
bade adieu to Great Britain, where we had spent two 
years, and set faces westward, for the dear home 
in our beloved republic. The two years of work, 
though hard, had been exceedingly pleasant. I met 
with no personal opposition ;— there were strong ob- 
jections expressed to my temperance principles, and 
many of the arguments against total abstinence w^ere 
new to me. I hardly expected to find the Saviour's 
command, " Drink ye all of it," quoted in support of 
drinking ; but a highly respectable paper, in a well- 
written article opposing total abstinence, said: "The 
principle of total abstinence is fundamentally w^rong. 
It is disclaimed by Scripture. The first miracle of 
our Saviour was to convert water into vv^ine. His 
solemn farewell to the men who were to go and teach 
all nations, was signalized by his drinking of the fruit 
of the vine, and his injunction, ^ Drink ye all of it.'" 
Occasionally, after I had delivered lectures, a sermon 
would be preached to expose the errors of total absti- 
nence, and its tendency to infidelity. I was con- 
stantly met with Scripture arguments, and, not being 
learned, found that I became confused about "/irosA," 
and " yayin," and other terms I knew not the mean- 
ing of, and left such arguments for those who could 
learnedly meet them, and advocating the principle, 
as far as I understood it to be, according to the dic- 
tates of common sense, and sound judgment, — never 
claiming that the Bible enjoined total abstinence as 
a positive Christian duty, in direct terms. Remember, 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 323 

I do not know but it does, to those who can read the 
Bible in the original tongue; but taking ground as 
far as I understand it, and can hold against all the 
learning in the universe, that the Bible permitted 
total abstinence, — that by the Bible it was lawful to 
abstain, — then declared, that as a Christian man, with 
my view of the claims of Christianity upon me, I was 
bound by my allegiance to God, by my faith in Christ, 
and by the vows I had taken in His presence and 
before the people, to give up a lawful gratification, if 
by my giving up that which is lawful for me, I could 
stand between my weaker brother, and the tempter, 
— that which might overwhelm him, — and so, by 
stooping to the weakness of my brother, fulfill the 
law of Christ; — the giving it up, then, became a posi- 
tive Christian duty. 

This may not be very logical ; but I am not logical. 
I cannot possibly be logical, when so many men wiser 
than I am, declare that I am not. I never pretended 
to logic ; I hardly know what it means. I have an 
idea that logic may be used to prove strange things. 
When I was a boy, I heard that a young student, vis- 
iting his home during vacation, was asked by his fi- 
ther to give him a specimen of logic. ''Well," said 
he, " I can prove by logic that this eel pie is a pigeon.'' 
''How so ?" "Why, an eel pie is a Jack pie, a Jack pie 
is a John pie, and a John pie is a pie-John." "Good," 
said his father. " Now for that I will make vou a 
present of a chestnut horse to-morrow." On the mor- 
row, with a bridle over his arm, the vouno- loiiiciau 
accompanied his father to the field, when thov stopped 
under the shade of a tree. '* There is vour horse ; 
bridle him." " But I see no horse." *' Certain! v, there 



o 



24 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHX B. GOUGH. 



is a horse — a chestnut horse." "Where?" "There!" 
And the old gentleman, touching a horse chestnut vv^ith 
his foot, said : '' If a John pie is a pie-John, a horse 
chestnut must be a chestnut horse ; — it is a poor rule 
that will not work both ways." 

I found some difficulty in meeting Scriptural argu- 
ments in favor of the use of wine. A gentleman once 
invited me to lunch, and the conversation turned on 
total abstinence ; when he argued that wine was 
spoken of with approval, only excess in its use con- 
demned, in the Scriptures. I said, hastily: "But 
there are different kinds of wine spoken of in the Bi- 
ble." "How do you know?" "I know there are." 
"How do you know?" I was puzzled; for I could 
not tell when it was "tirosh," or some other term 
in the original ; and the gentleman seemed good- 
naturedly amused at my perplexity, and laughingly 
said : " Never make a proposition you can't prove. 
Remember, I do not doubt your statement; but prove 
it." At last I said : " I know nothing about it, except 
that it must be so ; for the wine spoken of as a 'mocker,' 
cannot be the same kind as the Saviour made ; and 
the wine that is to be drank new in the kingdom, can- 
not be the wine of the wrath of God." "That will do," 
said my host ; "now you have proved it, and we will 
go on with the argument." 

In many places, astonishment was expressed that 
w^e drank no wine, even where we were entertained. 
We were once guests of a gentleman who afterward 
became our warm friend. On our arrival, the train 
being late, dinner was over ; but said he : " We will 
get you some lunch at once." I asked for a glass of 
water. " Oh ! I will give you something better than 



AUTOBIOGPvAPIIY OF JOHN B. GOUGII. 32 

water." I said '' I should prefer water." " But a glass 
of wine would be better for you after your journey." 
I told him that I never drank it. " Not drink wine ! " 
he exclaimed. " You do not mean to tell me you 
never drink wine f I infer you are opposed to gin, 
and other spirits ; but you cannot be afraid of a glass 
of good wine or ale." I said : "I am not particularly 
afraid of it; but I never drink it on any occasion." 
"Well,— is not Mrs. Gough wiser than you are, and 
will she not take a glass of wine ? " This courtesy 
was also declined, the subject was dropped, and we 
had water, but I think the gentleman looked upon us 
as curiosities. He often entertained us after that ; 
but we never saw wine on his table or were asked 
to take it. There seemed to be a strange obtuse- 
ness and inconsistency in reference to this question. 
At the table of one gentleman, who gave a din- 
ner party on the occasion of entertaining us, there 
were wine and ale in abundance. All drank freelv, 
but Mrs. Gouo-li and I. On our wav to the lecture, I 
said to him : " I fear you may be offended with me 
to-night, and judge that I violate the laws of hospi- 
tality, in what I shall say, for 1 intend to speak 
freely of the custom honored to-day at your table." 
He said, laughingly : " Oh ! no ; I shall not be of- 
fended ; I am anxious to hear what you have to say ; 
and do not spare me at all." After the lecture we 
returned to his house, and, as was the custom, supper 
was spread, with wine and ale, as at dinner. The 
host, playing with the glass he had just emptied, 
said: "Mr. Gough, you have an autograph book. I 
believe, in which your friends occasionally write 
words of cncouraGrement to a'ou in ^our work. 1 



326 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOH^ B. GOUGH. 

should be pleased to write sometliing there." The 
book was brought, -and he wrote : " Mj dear Mr. 
Gough, my children will yet bless the day in which 
they met the man, who so nobly denounced the cus- 
toms that are filling our beloved land with woe," and 
signed it. A clergyman who drank with the others 
at supper, said : " I will write a few words, if you 
will permit me," — and he wrote : " May God bless 
you, my beloved brother, and give you strength to 
hew in pieces the Agag of drunkenness." 

I was sometimes placed in an embarrassing position. 
One s:entleman who entertained us at his house, in- 
vited a large party to dinner. When the cloth was 
being removed, he said : " Gentlemen, I — I hardly 
know how to explain, but I — you — that is — hem ! — 
well, you will get no wine. I ordered the butler to 
decant no wine to-day, as a coinpliment to our guest; 
Mr. Gough." All looked at me, and some rather 
discontentedly. I was a little confused and mortified, 
feeling that they might be vexed or angry; so I said : 
" I am very sorry that you deprived these gentlemen 
of their accustomed beverage, and what they expect, 
on my account. Please allow me to say, that if it is 
riglit to place wine on your table, do it without re- 
gard to any man's prejudices or whims. If it is right, 
and you have no doubt whatever about it, put the 
wine on your table, and keep it there. If it is wrong, 
never place it there ; and if you have the slightest 
doubt whether it is right or wrong, put the wine aAvay 
till you have settled that question; and give the doubt 
the benefit. There should be no apology for wine 
if it is right to use it ; and I believe if none used or 
gave wine, who had the slightest doubt in reference 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 327 

to the right of doing sO;, there would be far less wine 
presented, o.nd drank, than there is." The argu- 
ments and quotations were not always fair. One 
person brought to me the passage in Deuteronomy, 
where the children of Israel were told to obtain what 
their souls lusted after, — " Sheep, oxen, wine, and 
strong drink," — as God's command that the people 
should use, not only wine, but whisky. I at once 
turned to and read the words, " If a man have a re- 
bellious son he shall bring him to the elders of the 
people, who shall take him without the city, and 
stone him with stones till he die." Then I asked : 
" Do you consider this to be a positive injunction, 
that if your son is disobedient jow shall take him to 
the magistrates, and they shall stone him to death ? " 
"Ah!" said he, "that was under the old dispensation." 
I said, " Your quotation was from the Old Testa- 
ment*" and he was angry, so we gave up the argu- 
ment. 

The objections brought against total abstinence, 
more especially from Christians, were new and start- 
ling to me. I had supposed the old arguments of 
thirty or forty years ago, met so triumphantly in this 
country, were buried under such a weight of evidence 
there could be no hope of their resurrection. I have 
a volume of lectures, delivered by Rev. Robert Mur- 
ray, Presbyterian minister in connection with the 
Church of Scotland, delivered in Canada in 1839, and 
dedicated to " the managers, elders, and members of 
the Presbyterian congregation in Oakville, Canada," 
from which I make extracts. After citimr the total 
abstainers to the bar of God, to hear the sentonoo 
pronounced ao^ainst them, — "^ I was huno-rv, and ve 
21 



328 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

gave me no meat, thirsty, and ye gave me no drink," 
etc., he says : — 

Are you not astonished, when you hear any man who professes to be 
a minister of Christ, urging upon ministers, and Christians in general, 
to banish alcoholic liquors from the churches of the living God, and to 
write entire abstinence in capitals over the door of every Christian church? 
Can you conscientiously receive such a man as a minister of Christ ? 
No, my friends. Christ foresaw that the time would come, when such 
men would creep into the church, and that such doctrine would be 
maintained by them, and therefore, lest His own example in using alco- 
holic liquor, the force of the miracle which He wrought to produce 
alcoholic liquor, and the commandment which He gave His disciples, to 
use alcoholic liquor, if it was offered to them, should all prove ineffect- 
ual to guard you against this error, He ordains the use of this very 
liquor as one of the symbols in the celebration of the most solemn 
ordinance of the church. 

And again: — 

The use of wine and strong drink is decidedly sanctioned by the 
Word of God. (Zachariah ix. 17.) After looking forward in the vision 
of the Lord to the ages of the church, was led by the spirit of God, to 
hail with holy rapture, the introduction of that very drink which the 
total abstainers represent as hurtful. " How great is His goodness, how 
great is His beauty 1 Corn shall make the young men cheerful, and 
new wine the maids." Many of you have witnessed this prophecy 
fulfilled to the very letter. Have you never seen the young men 
making themselves cheerful with malt liquor, while the young maids 
were producing the same effect by the blood of the grape? The 
prophet hailed this event as a special manifestation of the great good- 
ness of God, and for this very reason, that when the kingdom of Christ 
was extended from the rivers to the ends of the earth, many countries 
disqualified from yielding wine to cheer his people, would then be 
supplied with a drink from corn, possessing the same stimulating 
qualities. The prophecy teaches us that the corn would yield even 
a more stimulating drink than wine, inasmuch as young men generally 
require a more powerful stimulus than maids do, to produce the same 
degree of hilarity. Thus, this passage teaches us to regard ardent 
spirits as a manifestation of the great goodness of God to the children 
of men. 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 329 

I might make many more extracts; let these suf- 
fice. I acknowledge that I found no one advancing 
such absurd and blasphemous arguments as these^ for 
ardent spirits; yet among a class of Christians and 
Christian ministers, I found their stronghold for 
maintaining the drinking customs, were the Holy 
Scriptures. 

Then, on the other hand, some of the true, warm 
friends of the cause were offended with me because I 
did not at once denounce the drinking of intoxicating 
liquors to be positively sinful under any circumstan- 
ces, and any amount of ignorance. I said, " Under 
certain contingencies a man might drink without sin ; 
and I believed there were men, better than I, who 
drank; and though I could not drink without sin, 
I would not judge my brother." Their argument 
was, that a sin is a sin ; it is either a sin, or not a sin ; 
and a sin in one place, and under one circumstance, is 
a sin in any place and under any circumstances. I 
used this illustration: Suppose I come home from a 
lecture very weary, and I take off my coat, and with 
one foot in a slipper, and a boot on the other, and my 
hair about my face, I sprawl out on three or four 
chairs, my head on one, my body on another, and my 
feet each on a chair — is that sinful? It may be very 
ungraceful; but I do not commit sin by sprawling in 
my own room at twelve o'clock at night. But sup- 
pose I go into a grog-shop, where men are drinking, 
and place myself in such a position on four chairs — 
what then? A looker-on may exclaim: *• Hello I 
there's some one takino- his comfort. Who is it?" 
"That's John B. Gough, the temperance lecturer.'' 
"Whcwl IIo! ho!" Am I not guilty of sin ? AVliy? 



330 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHJ^ B. GOUGH. 

Because my influence for good over those who see 
me, is impaired, or destroyed ; and I maintain that 
any man who continues a practice, which in itself may 
not be sinful, yet impairs his influence for good over 
others, whether he be a minister or lajonan — accord- 
ing to my poor judgment — commits a sin in continu- 
ing such a practice. I have been drawn farther than 
I intended; but I was constantly meeting such objec- 
tions there, and will not bore the reader longer on 
this topic. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

British Organizations — The Term, " Orator " — Votes of Thanks — In- 
troductions — The Scotch Lassies — The Handkerchief — The Broken 
Carriage Window — The Scotch Breakfast — A Run for the Train — 
Hospitalities — English Comfort. 

The organizations in Great Britain are established 
in my opinion, on a more permanent basis than in 
this country. No one who attends their annual meet- 
ings, their festivals, their weekly assemblies, their 
meetings for business, — would fail to be impressed by 
their earnestness, and, I may say, their pertinacity in 
carrying out the objects for which they are organized. 
The Scottish Temperance League, the London Tem- 
perance League, and the British Association, — soci- 
eties with which I am most familiar, — have their staff 
of lecturers constantly employed, appointments being 
made for them at head-quarters, viz. : the offices of 
these associations. Their Board of Managers, and 
Standing Committees, are thorough working men, 
who not only sympathize with temperance, but make 
it a special business to attend to the interests of the 
movement. I have been edified by the earnestness 
manifested at their business meetings, when I was 
privileged to attend them, and the carefulness with 
which they deal with the minute detail, as well as the 
broader operations of their societies, — the patience 
with which they master difficulties; and their self- 



332 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

denying efforts to achieve the greatest good most ef- 
fectually. There is, to be sure, some formality in the 
proceedings,- — especially in their public meetings, — 
strange to us in America, and to some, annoying ; yet 
even this has its advantage ; — they make the business 
a serious and earnest one, and the very formality of 
their proceedings, in a certain sense, gives them a 
greater stability, than if their arrangements were all 
carried on at loose ends. 

Here I may be permitted to state, that I always 
disliked and jDrotested against the use of the terms 
^^ orator" and "orations," as applied to me, and my 
speeches. My addresses were never "orations," and 
I make no pretensions as an orator. I know I do not 
possess the qualifications necessary to constitute an 
orator, in the general understanding of that term; 
and as I have been charged with presumption in ac- 
cepting the title, I wish to say that I never was rec- 
onciled to the use of these terms, so constantly 
applied to me and my speeches, while there. 

Before I had worked with them many days, I became 
perfectly satisfied with all their formalities, excepting 
the "votes of thanks." I never could become en- 
tirely reconciled 'to them ; yet where so much was 
admirable and excellent, I managed to overcome my 
dislike in a great measure. Occasionally there was 
an absurd side to this peculiarity, when some one 
who had no other qualification for a public address, 
than his title, or social position, would rise after my 
lecture to propose a vote of thanks. I have ached 
in every nerve of my bod}^, when, feeling anxious 
that some good might result from my work, earnestly 
desiring that the pledge should be circulated, or per- 



AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 333 

sons invited to come forward and sign it, — perhaps 
hoping that I had aroused some to feel as I longed to 
have them feel, — some worthy gentleman would rise, 
and after a few preliminary hems, say : — 

" Ladies and gentlemen, I — ah — rise to make — in 
point of fact, to make a proposition, — and — hem ! I am 
quite sure that the proposition I rise to make — will 
— ^I am quite sure — will — in fact — be — received by 
this large — and, I may say, this most respectable as- 
sembly — I say will be received, in a manner that 
shall — that shall — hem ! be gratifying, most gratify- 
ing to the gentleman on whose behalf I rise to make 
the proposition, — that the thanks of — hem ! this large, 
and I believe I have before stated, most respectable 
assembly, be presented to the gentleman, who has, in 
23oint of fact, just taken his seat. We have all listened, 
I am quite sure that / have listened to a — to — a " — 
And then would follow a statement of his views. " I 
cannot say that I agree with the gentleman who has 
just taken his seat, though I must be permitted to 
say" — Then a eulogy. "But I am not a — not a tee- 
totaler. I think that — in point of fact, that a glass 
of good wine, taken in moderation — in moderation — 
is — has — that is — I would say, that intoxication is 
disgusting, positively disgusting, and so far I am 
happy to — that is, to agree with the gentleman who 
has so, — I may say so " — Then another eulogy. 
"But I may be permitted to say " — And so on for 
fifteen minutes. 

Then another gentleman is appointed to second it 
with a speech. Then it would be put, and carried ; 
and the proposer, in another speech, convey to mo 
the thanks of the audience. I am expected to ao- 



334 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHIT B. GOUGH. 

knowledge it ; — and the only advantage in this ar- 
rangement is, that I can reply to the gentleman, and 
say the last words in defense of my position. After 
that, there would be votes of thanks to the chairman, 
with the same formalities. I have always protested 
against the introduction of chairmen at temperance 
meetings, who were not fully in sympathy with the 
work. 

I had some curious introductions. Once the chair- 
man said : '^ I rise to introduce Mr. Gough, famous in 
both hemispheres for his sublime, as well as for his 
ridiculous." 

Another chairman, who aspirated his H's, and put 
them hon when they bought to be hoff, and took 
them hoff when they bought to be hon, — wishing to 
compliment me, and remembering that Samson slew 
a thousand with a jaw-bone, and sometime after, being 
thirsty, obtained, by a miracle, water from the dry 
bone, with which he was refreshed, — said: "Ladies 
and gentlemen, hi wish to hintroduce the horator of 
the hevening. He comes from the bother side of the 
Hatlantic; he is to speak on the subject of temper- 
ance — a very dry subject — but when we ear hour 
transatlantic horator discourse on the subject of tem- 
perance, we may imagine the miracle again performed 
by which the prophet was refreshed with the water 
proceeding from the jaw-bone of a Hass ! " 0, dear ! if 
he had only stopped at jaw-bone, I should not have 
minded it; but that awful "H" almost extinguished 
me for the time beino;. 

Friends often presided at my lectures, and on one 
occasion, a gentleman belonging to this society, was 
invited to take the chair. He was one of the most 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B, GOUGH. 335 

refined and cultivated men I ever met. We were 
often his guests, and were charmed with him; highly 
educated, a perfect gentleman, entirely self-possessed. 
He was in the committee-room, when the chairman 
of the committee asked him if he would be kind 
enough, before he introduced me, to call on the Kev. 

W. E. , rector of C Church, Chelsea, to offer 

prayer. Now, it was entirely contrary to his views, 
to give any man a title, or to ask any man to pray. 
He smiled, and bowed assent. I wondered how he 
would manage, — when he rose, and said, in his sweet, 
clear voice : '^ If W. E. feels moved to pray, this 
audience will be silent," It was admirably done. 
The audience was silent, the prayer was offered, for 
the Eeverend gentleman did feel moved to pray; 
and afterwards I was introduced. 

I really long to record the many personal acts of 
kindness, and expressions of sympathy I received 
from hundreds of friends in Great Britain. Their 
names would fill a volume. They are treasured in 
my heart, — none of them are forgotten. Though I 
may never see them more, or be able to tell them 
personally, how much I owe to their kindness, yet 
the remembrances, as they come to me in the quiet 
of my home, are refreshing to-day. As a general 
thing, the people seemed to be interested in my work. 
I was often accosted in the street, by those who had 
attended my meetings, and there was a heartiness in 
their greeting that was very pleasant. It seemed 
something like a sense of proprietorship in me, with 
none of the patronage that is offensive. 

One day, when stroUino- in Edinburirh, I saw a 
group of young girls, standing in front of their 



336 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

school in the Canongate, looking towards me on the 
opposite side of the street. Soon they crossed, and 
walked near me, and on either side of me. One of 
them said, very modestly and prettily: ^^Mr. Gough, 
hae ye ony objection to us lassies walking wi' ye?" 

I said at once : '^ Oh ! no, indeed, I have not." 

^^ We've heerd ye speak at Music Hall, and we're 
a' teetotalers." 

We chatted together, crossing the North Bridge, 
over into Princes Street, when I stopped at the en- 
trance to the Waverly Hotel, — where we were enter- 
tained by Eobert Cranston, the worthy proprietor, — 
and one of the "lassies" said, "Ye'll be stopping at 
the Waverly?" 

"Yes," I replied. 

"Will 3'e hae ony objections to shaking hands wi' 
us lassies?" 

As I shook hands with them, I heard in that sweet, 
low, Scotch tone: "Ye'll be soon ganging awa frae 
Edinburgh, and we'll loeary for ye to come back 
again. Gude-bye to ye ! " 

I met with very generous expressions of interest in 
me and my work, and I have very precious remem- 
brances from many warm friends. A poor woman 
called at our lodgings, while I was out, and after 
waiting nearly an hour to see me, said to my wife, — 
"I'm poor, — I would give him a thousand pounds if 
I had it ; but will you give this handkerchief to him 
from me, and tell him to use it if he will, and when 
he wipes the sweat from his face while speaking, tell 
him to remember he has wiped away a great many 
tears while he has been in Edinburgh." 

I have that handkerchief to-day, kept as one of my 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 337 

treasures, worth more than silver and gold. The 
cases of reform, and the gratitude of wives, children, 
and relatives are very precious ; and the searching 
for materials for this book brings them vividly before 
me. 

I was appointed to lecture in a town six miles from 
the railway by which I came from my last engage- 
ment, and a man drove me in a fly — a one-horse hack 
— from the station to the town. I noticed that he 
sat leaning forward in an awkward manner, with his 
face close to the glass of the window. Soon he folded 
a handkerchief, and tied it round his neck. I asked 
him if he was cold. 

" No, sir." 

Then he placed the handkerchief round his face. I 
asked him if he had the toothache. 

"No, sir," was the reply. 

Still he sat leaning forward. At last I said : "Will 
you please tell me why you sit leaning forward that 
way, with a handkerchief round your neck, if jou are 
not cold, and have no toothache ?" 

He said very quietly, "The window of the carriage 
is broke, and the wind is cold, and I am trying to 
keep it from you." 

I said, in surprise, "You are not putting jowv face 
to that broken pane to keep the wind from me, are 
you ?" 

^^Yes, sir, I am." 

"Why do you do that?" 

" God bless you, sir, I owe everything I have in the 
world to ,you." 

'' But I never saw you before." 

"No, sir; but I have seen you. I was a ballad- 



■V 



338 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

singer once. I used to go round with a half-starved 
babj in my arms for charity, and a draggled wife at 
my heels, half the time with her eyes blackened ; and 
I went to hear you in Edinburgh, and you told me I 
was a man ; and when I went out of that house, I 
said, ' By the help of God I'll he a man ! ' and now 
I've a happy wife, and a comfortable home — God bless 
you, sir ! I would stick my head in any hole under 
the heavens, if it would do you any good." 

After the lecture, this man asked me if I would 
take breakfast with him the next morning. As I was 
compelled to leave at seven, I agreed to be there at 
six. I went — and such a breakfast ! It appeared to 
me as though the "gude wife" must have been up all 
night, to provide it -, — potatoes, in abundance ; fresh 
scones, or Scotch cakes, broiled fish, bacon, eggs, 
bread, butter, jam, coffee, milk in bowls, buttermilk, 
cheese, oatmeal porridge, — all spread on a snow-white 
table. The " gude man " just sitting on the edge of 
his chair, while the " gude wife " quietly pressed their 
profuse hospitality on me ; and four " wee things " 
stood about the room, their round eyes fastened on 
I j me, till the mother would say, " Dinna ye speer at the 

jontleman." 

'' ^y^j" said the man, " let the bairns look, an' they 
wuU." 

I made a hearty meal, and we heard the whistle. 
I was to go by a train on a road that came near the 
village, in an opposite direction from that by which I 
had arrived. The man sprung up and said: ^^ Hey 
mon ! ye'll miss the train. Here, Sandy, Sandy — " 
and in came a young man who had been waiting out- 
side the room. So Sandy shouldered my valise, and 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHIT B. GOUGH. 339 

we ran, he and I together, poor Sanely puffing behind 
us, with sundry " Ohs ! " and " Heys ! " and " It's no 
vera licht, the valise ! " till we reached the station 
just in time; and I left them with hearty "good 
bye's" and "God bless you's." 

I enjoyed an excellent opportunity of seeing the 
people in their homes, as well as in the public assem- 
blies, as we were generally entertained by friends. I 
can never forget the cordial hospitalities we received. 
At Gloucester, we were the guests of dear Samuel 
Bowley, our true friend, and his wife — who has since 
gone home. I always thought her, with her gray 
hair, and sweet face, one of the most lovely women I 
ever met. Their portraits hang before me now. Kev. 
John Angell James; the Sturges' ; Kobert Charlton; 
our dear friends George and Bateman Brown, with 
their wives ; Potto Brown, the father, in whose house 
we found the perfection of genuine English hospital- 
ity ; Joseph Tucker of Pavenham Bury, the English 
magistrate, and gentleman ; our dear friends in Lei- 
cester, Edward Ellis and his wife ; William Wilson 
and his family, at Sherwood Hall ; but I must not 
particularize, when they are so numerous. None are 
forgotten. An English home is the synonpn for com- 
fort. They thoroughly understand the meaning of 
that word; Comfort. 



CHAPTER XXrV. 

Lecture Before The Young Men's Christian Association — Comments 
of the Press — Address to the Edinburgh Students — Soiree in Tan- 
field Hall — Address to Ladies — Public Dinner and Banquet — The 
Lever Clock — Silver Pitcher — Rice Pudding. 

The personal experiences in my work, — interviews 
with the intemperate or their friends — cases of reform 
brought directly under my notice, — were nmnerous. 
Some fine demonstrations of interest in the cause I 
advocated, were very gratifying. To record these, 
when involving so much of personal approbation, 
might seem impertinent and conceited, were it not 
that all these manifestations of interest were not for 
a man, but for a cause, and any public attention I re- 
ceived, w^as attributable to the great reform with 
which it was my honor to be identified ; and for all 
the favor with which I, as its advocate, was received, 
I feel deeply grateful,- — and in all humility, shall 
make more permanent, in these recollections, demon- 
strations that seemed worthy of notice, by some of 
the best and most reliable journals in the country. 
The " Young Men's Christian Association " of London, 
(one of the most important in the world,) had for 
years sustained a course of lectures, in Exeter Hall, 
during the winter months. Men of the first intellect 
in the kingdom, were ranked among their speakers, 
and to my surprise, and the great gratification of the 



AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 341 

temperance friends, I was invited to deliver one of 
their course in 1853-4. As these lectures were to be 
published, and such men as Hugh Miller, Kev. Dr. 
Hugh McNeil, Eev. A. P. Stanley, Dr. E. S. Candlish, 
and other men of power and position, were in the 
course, I hesitated to accept the invitation. The 
committee were desirous that I should occupy the 
evening of Tuesday, Novembe" 22d. Eight Hon. Sir 
James Stephen, K. C. B., being the lecturer for No- 
vember 15th, and the Eev. Eobert Bickersteth to fol- 
low on November 29th. To be sandwiched between 
two such men, startled me into a determination to 
decline the ^ great honor; but the friends of temper- 
ance, anxious that such an opportunity to speak on 
the subject should not be lost, very strenuously urged 
me to accept the invitation — which I did. Then the 
theme was proposed to the committee, and there w^ere 
strong objections to the term "temperance." They 
wished me to speak to the young men, and I could 
not agree to do so on any other subject ; so the com- 
promise w\as made, that under the title "habit," I 
should say all I wished on ^Hemperance." So on the 
22d of November I delivered one of the course of 
lectures before that association. "The British Ban- 
ner" contained an article filling seven columns of that 
large paper, critical and descriptive, and about as 
many containing a report of the lecture. I give a 
short extract : — 

Last evening Exeter Hall presented a deeply interesting spectacle. 
It was greatly crowded with an audience such as London alone, of all the 
capitals of Europe, could supply. Never before — we may safely ailirin — 
did Mr. Gough address an audience that might, in all points, he compared 
with it. Never did he make his appeal to such a mass of cultivated and 
Christian minds — minds thoroughly compoteut to deal with the subject, 



342 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

and to form a proper estimate of the speaker. !From -wliat he said at 
the outset, and still more at the close, he seemed to form a just estimate 
of his position. The conjunction of such a man with such an assem- 
bly, was an object of unusual interest to the moral philosopher. To 
say it was beautiful in a very high degree, is saying little ; — it was 
transcendently grand. To witness the effect of one spirit operating 
through such a lengthened period, upon the aggregate mass of spirits, 
was a felicity which belongs to *' the feast of reason and the flow of 
soul." The effect of genuine talent, naturally and vigorously exer- 
cised, and under the influence of Christian principles, was never more 
remarkably exemplified. Asking nothing he obtained everything. 
Making no invasion, but coming simply as a friend, he was suffered by 
common consent to make a complete conquest of the united heart of 
the mighty throng. The assembly had neither the time nor the dispo- 
sition to discharge the functions of criticism. They had before them a 
man rich in the gifts of nature, who commenced his operations by di- 
vesting himself of all pretensions to praise, or consideration on the score 
of scholastic culture, or literary acquirement. They heard the dis- 
claimer, but thought no more about it; and at once laying their hearts 
open to the full power of the subduing influence that resides within 
him, they fell under the charms of his inspiration. Logic and criticism 
were both sent a-packing ; they were deemed an impertinence on such an 
occasion. The speaker presented to the assembly a heart ; and in re- 
turn nothing but hearts were presented to the speaker. The success 
was complete ; the triumph was perfect. In thus speaking, however, 
we must not be misunderstood; we do not receive Mr. Gough on one 
ground, and try him upon another. Nothing were easier than to find 
fault — to take exception — to carp — and to censure ; and nothing more 
preposterous and reprehensible. He who can stop to criticise such a 
man, has but small claims to either judgment or charity. 

In Edinburgh, in compliance with a requisition 
signed by more than three hundred students of the 
University, I delivered an address to them in Brighton 
Street Church, January 20th, — of which the "Scottish 
Press," January 24, contained the following notice : — 

MR. GOUGH AND THE EDINBURGH STUDENTS. 
Last Friday evening, in compliance with a requisition signed by up- 
wards of three hundred students attending the University of Edinburgh, 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 343 

tbis renowned advocate of the temperance cause addressed a crowded 
audience in Brighton Street Church. There were upwards of two 
thousand present, most of them young men, and fully half, students 
of the University and New College, for whose accommodation special 
arrangements had been made with the " Edinburgh Total Abstinence 
Society," under whose auspices Mr. Gough is at present lecturing. 
The Kev. Dr. Guthrie presided on the occasion. The meeting having 
been opened with prayer by Principal Cunningham, the chairman, in 
a few felicitous remarks introduced the lecturer, commending him and 
the cause which he so powerfully advocates, to the earnest attention of 
the audience. The address which followed was well fitted to make a 
deep and permanent impression on the minds of all who heard it» It 
was characterized by all that fervid eloquence, and marvelous power 
of illustration; that enlarged human sympathy and deep-toned piety, 
which have gained for Mr. Gough such a wide-spread and honorable 
reputation. The arguments and illustrations which he employed were 
specially directed to the circumstances of those who formed the greater 
part of the audience. That they carried conviction to the minds of many, 
was proved, not only by the enthusiastic applause with which they 
were received, but by the numbers who pressed forward at the close, to 
enroll their names on the side of total abstinence from all intoxicating 
liquors. 

On the motion of Mr. Wormald, President of the "University 
Abstainer's Society," the thanks of the meeting were voted by ac- 
clamation to Mr. Gough, for the ready response he had given to the 
invitation addressed to him; and to the "Edinburgh Total Abstinence 
Society," for their arrangements for the students; and on the motion 
of Mr. C. Douglas, Secretary of the "New College Society," a 
similar vote of thanks was given to Dr. Guthrie, for his kindness in 
presiding as chairman. This meeting, embracing probably the largest 
assemblage of students ever held in Scotland, and countenanced by the 
presence of several of our most influential clergymen and laymen — is 
one among many indications of the change of public sentiment thnt is 
taking place in reference to the whole question of total abstinence. We 
are happy to be able to add, that since the meeting, numerous accessions 
have been made to the abstainers' societies, both at the Univers^ity and 
New College. 

On Tuesday, Jaiiuary 31st, a soiree was given in 
Tanfield Hall, which was fully and favorably noticed 
22 



344 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

by nearly every paper in the city. I append a short 

extract from the "Edinburgh News." 

SOIREE IN HONOR OF MR. GOUGH. 

This magnificent spectacle was one as striking in appearance, and 
more suggestive in its results, than any which the Hall of Tanfield has 
contained since the memorable day of the Disruption. We saw them 
both ; and while it would be presumptuous foUy to deny the influence 
of the latter on the destinies of our country and the world, it is folly 
no less presumptuous, to neglect or underrate either the cause or the 
multitude who crowded to inconvenience the largest building Edinburgh 
or its vicinity can muster, on the most drenching night of this drenching 
and tempestuous season. To describe the scene — gay, brilliant, and 
earnest as it was — is simply impossible. We might depict the appear- 
ance of the platform, and picture the musicians on the one side, dis- 
coursing sweet music, surrounded by a forest of happy, hearty spirits ; 
or we might describe the two striking characteristics of the vast gather- 
ing, the amount of beauty bursting into womanhood, and of young en- 
ergy which told of entering on, or embarking in life's earnest business, 
which crowded every nook and corner of the spacious building ; or we 
might describe the various speakers and their speeches; — but all this 
would convey no idea of a meeting which, for earnest enthusiasm and 
moral power upon the minds of mere spectators, has seldom indeed 
been equalled, and never surpassed, for the last twenty years in Edin- 
burgh. Aristocrats and artizans, millionaires and mechanics, had 
mingled their plaudits in testimony of Mr. Gough's extraordinary 
power ; and when on Tuesday evening the swell of their united admi- 
ration rose to flood tide, the ovation seemed overpowering, if not 
dangerous to human strength and wisdom. But the secret of Mr. 
Gough's strength lies in his deep religious earnestness — a power which 
proves the surest helm in prosperity's most dangerous sea ; and of the 
value of "faith's guiding star," few men seem more conscious than he, 
whom those thousands of our citizens had met to honor. Considering 
the vast multitude present, the aiTangements were highly creditable ; 
but whatever these might have been, the audience came evidently de- 
termined to be pleased — a feeling which, of itself, helped in no small 
measure to the comfortable working out of those arrangements which 
appeared to have been made with great judgment, as well as with 
laborious care. After the hall was filled, and before the chair was 
taken, the Castle Band played several of the most esteemed selections 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 345 

from modern operas, and gave the audience a specimen of vocalization, 
in the singing of "Hail, Smiling Morn," with instrumental accompani- 
ments — which highly gratified the audience. Before tea, the Rev. Dr. 
Henry Grey "asked a blessing," and, consumption duly ended, the 
multitude rose to return thanks in an appropriate hymn of praise. The 
President of the Society, Mr. Marr, shortly and neatly opened the speak- 
ing business of the evening, and, as the audience indicated, it would 
have been well, had the other speakers followed his judicious example. 
Lord Panmure said the other day, that nothing proved so hurtful to 
men's constitutions as undelivered speeches — and these may be very 
hard of digestion ; but whether the delivery of an oration, after an au- 
dience has once, twice, or thrice given symptoms of their being surfeited, 
be not more permanently damaging, is a problem at least equally hard 
to solve. The speech of Mr. Eeid was vigorous and pointed, and, be- 
ing the first, was heard with willingness, and received with approbation ; 
but the other speakers were not equal to themselves, and the audience 
felt as if these gentlemen wanted to make up in length what they lacked 
in point and power. But the patience of the people would have been 
exhausted, whatever the quality of the previous speeches. They wanted 
Mr. Gough ; and after the last sweetly sung song had ended, the moral 
hero rose, and the heaving surge of humanity which rose, en masse, to wel- 
come him, seemed as if lashed into a very tempest of enthusiasm. The 
scene was wonderful, and its effects electric — compelling even those who 
had never heard his voice, to cheer from sympathetic admiration. The 
speech which he delivered, magnificent as it was in many of its points, 
was nothing more than a fair specimen of his usual style; and, instead of 
dwelling on what is reported at length elsewhere, we will rather venture 
on an estimate of Mr. Gough's general or peculiar powers. 

On the afternoon of Saturday, February 11, I ad- 
dressed, by invitation, an audience of ladies at the city 
hall, Glasgow, of which the ^' Christian News" said : — 

We did not know that any sons of Adam wore to be admitted on 
Saturday last to hear Mr. Gough's address to the daughters of Evo ; 
so we were sitting at five minutes to twelve at our quiet fireside, when 
a breathless messenger arrived, to say that we had been omitted in the 
platform invitations, and that our presence was urgently desired. So, 
leaving books, and papers, and Sabbath preparations to shit\ for them- 
selves, as they best might, we scrambled in a great hurry for our hat 



346 AUTOBIOGEAPHT OF JOHISr B. GOUGH. 

and boots, and hiding our faded frontispiece beneath the folds of an 
enwrapping top coat, and mounting a white cravat, we literally ran to 
the scene. The e£fect of that meeting, — who can tell ? We have been 
impressed with this fact in Mr. Gough's case, that his desire to do good 
is uppermost, and his regard for his own fame altogether secondary and 
subordinate. With many of our orators and public men, self is fore- 
most. Not so with Mr. Gough. His great aim is the good of man 
and the glory of God; and herein lies his great power. He would not 
work so hard, even to sheer exhaustion, — he would not so risk his repu- 
tation as an orator, when his bodily strength is so inadequate to the 
highest efforts, — if this were not the case. 

We have been glad to hear, that wherever Mr. Gough has lectured, 
great numbers have enlisted in the temperance army ; and of these, 
many who were opposed to our cause before. Besides, many of his 
converts are very influential. He can say, with the early preachers of 
the gospel, — "Of honorable men and of honorable women not a few." 
When lately in the North, we met a minister of the United Presby- 
terian Church, who had been a fellow-student with us at the University. 
Observing that he spoke favorably of the temperance cause, we asked 
him if he had taken the pledge. He said he had done so after hearing 

Gough's first lecture in Edinburgh, and so did Mr. -, and Mr. , 

naming two other ministers whom we knew. We adduce this evidence, 
which unexpectedly came before us, in proof of the assertion that he is 
moving this coimtry. We had never seen such a meeting ; and what 
impressed us much was this, that Mr. Gough said, before closing, that 
he never had seen such a meeting. This was the second compliment 
Mr. Gough paid the city of Glasgow, viewed as a field of temper- 
ance effort. Here first in Britain had he heard prayer offered before 
his lecture, and here was gathered the largest assembly of ladies he had 
ever witnessed, and had ever addressed. Surely, Glasgow will occupy 
a most prominent place in his remembrance and his records. With 
manifest emotion he told us that in addressing such an assembly, his 
career had reached its culminating point, — he had gained the acme of 
his ambition. We are sorry that, not being able to make our way to 
the platform, we cannot describe the scene presented, as a whole; 
but certainly, as far as our eye could reach, the sight was most impos- 
ing, and the effect produced very grand. The audience consisted of all 
classes, from the wife of the hard-toiled operative, to the jewelled lady 
of the merchant prince. Mr. Gough has succeeded in bringing out to 
temperance meetings, ministers who never appeared before, and repre- 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHiN" B. GOUGH. 347 

sentatives of our city aristocracy, who would have thought it quite be- 
neath them to attend such a gathering. He has made the cause some- 
what fashionable, and this is a great matter. 

Mr. Arnot seemed at a loss to know how the ladies would return 
thanks to the hero of the day. They improvised it well. A snow- 
storm began; noiselessly the flakes fell. Puffing would have been 
vulgar. They waved their white handkerchiefs. It was very thrilling. 
Those tear-stained handkerchiefs seemed the signals of .temperance 
victory, — the pure banners of the triumphant temperance army, des- 
tined to wipe away many a tear from weeping eyes. Let Mr. Gough 
often recall the thrill produced by that silent acclamation, and feel as 
if these trophies were still waving round his head, whether on Albion's 
or Columbia's shores. [Another writer said in the daily paper, that 
the waving of handkerchiefs reminded him of the rising of the gulls 
from Ailsa Crag at the firing of a gun.] 

On Tuesday, February 14t]i, I was entertained at a 
public dinner, •at the "Abercorn Assembly Rooms," 
Paisley, where nearly one himdred gentlemen sat 
down, among whom were the Magistrates and Town 
Council. James Winning occupied the chair, and 
Baillie Brown and Councillor McKean discharged the 
duties of croupiers. Speeches were made, and re- 
ported in the Paisley and Glasgow press. As I was 
about to leave Scotland for a time, the ladies of the 
"Glasgow Temperance Visiting Association" gave what 
the "North British Daily Mail" termed "a splendid 
banquet in honor of John B. Gougli." Archibald Liv- 
ingston, Esq., presided, and speeches were made by 
Rev. Alexander Wallace, Rev. William Reid, and others. 

At the conclusion of Mr. Reid's address, [I quote from the " Mail,"] 
after a grand symphony on the organ, IMr. Mitchell, with a slight and 
touching preface, in the name of the committee of the "Ladies Tem- 
perance Visiting Association," presented Mr. Gough with a beautiful 
silver tea-set, elegantly inlaid with gold, bearing an inscription expres- 
sive of the kind wishes of the association in behalf of his lady and 
himself Mr. Gough replied, and followed up by a speech of nearly 



348 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOH:n^ B. GOUGH. 

an hour's length. Services of fruit were plentifully distributed through- 
out the evening, and the proceedings, which were of the most delight- 
ful character, after three cheers for the ladies, terminated at a quarter 
past eleven, when the vast company separated, to the strains of the 
National Anthems. The place was densely crowded in every part, hun- 
dreds being unable to obtain tickets of admission. 

I forgot to state that I addressed a large audience 
of children at the City Hall^ on Saturday, the 25th. 
On March 1st, I went down to Greenock, and deliv- 
ered a lecture in the "West Blackhall Chapel." On 
entering the committee-room, I noticed on the table, 
a very beautiful skeleton lever clock, such as I had 
never seen before. Approaching it, I said, " Oh ! what 
a beauty." I hardly knew at first what it was, and 
began to examine it. Some of the gentlemen looked 
embarrassed, as I made inquiries, and soon I detected 
my name on an engraved piece of silver hanging in 
front of it; when flashed on my mind the fact, that 
it was intended for me. I turned away confused, and 
it was immediately covered with a cloth. I heard 
afterward that it was intended for a surprise, to be 
presented to me on the platform after the lecture; 
and they had inadvertently left it exposed, and I saw 
it. I was very sorry, too, for during my speech, the 
thought of that clock, and the coming presentation, 
which I dreaded, would force itself into my mind. I 
was bothered, and, until I had become absorbed in 
my theme, embarrassed by it; — but the presentation 
came off; — a very beautiful speech was made by 
George Turner, Esq., to which I replied awkwardly, 
and with some blundering; and the beautiful clock, 
with its silver face, rosewood stand, and glass shade, 
was mine, — and it now adorns the mantel of my din- 
ing-room at Hillside. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 349 

Before I left Edinburgh, the committee of the "To- 
tal Abstinence Society" presented me with a superb 
silver pitcher. This was purchased of the silver- 
smith ; it was originally intended for a claret jug, 
with an ugly little Bacchus perched on the lid. But 
a finely chased pine-apple was inserted in its place, 
and the fat little heathen deity removed. That 
pitcher is devoted to cold water, and no claret will 
ever defile it while it remains in my possession — 
which it will to the day of my death. 

I spoke at Kilmarnock on the next evening, and 
left Scotland for some months. We were entertained 
very kindly at Glasgow, by Archibald Livingston, on 
several occasions ; but towards the close of my labors 
there, we took lodging at the temperance house kept 
by Alexander Graham, who afterwards became a most 
bitter enemy of mine, for no reason that I can imag- 
ine except that I once invited Mr. Livingston to dine 
with me, and when the rice pudding was served, Mr. 
Livingston found a large cockroach in his portion; he 
laid it out on the cloth, and I called the waiter and 
asked him to inquire of the proprietor whether such 
things were served up in rice puddings generally at 
his hotel; that's all I can remember of reason for his 
bitter animosity to me. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

Speech at Leslie — Prof. Miller — Throat Remedies — Scene at Sadlers 
Wells Theatre — Address to Oxford Students — Ludicrous Scene — 
" Fair Play " — Fete at Hartwell House — Fireworks — Influence of 
Drink — Extracts from Letters — Other Cases — Poor Ned. 

DuRi^^G all this time, my health was good, with the 
exception of continual colds ; and as a preventive, I 
permitted my beard to grow, and the beard has so 
encroached, and my dislike to shaving so increased, 
that I have not used a razor on my face for nearly 
three years. It was a work of time, to come to it; 
but I shall probably continue as I am, and discard the 
shaving apparatus entirely. 

In speaking at Leslie, in a large new factory build- 
ing, before the machinery was brought in, I so over- 
did, under the pressure of a heavy cold, that I could 
not speak loud the next morning, and was com- 
pelled to postpone my engagements, and return to 
Edinburgh, when I sent for Prof Miller — w^ho was, 
by the way, my dear and honored friend. After an 
examination, his prescription was, that I should not 
, attempt to speak above a low whisper till he gave me 
permission. I went whispering for ^Ye days. Every 
morning he would come in and chat with me; and 
many a hearty laugh I had at his rich, genuine wit 
and humor; but on the fifth morning he came in and 
said : " Now I take off the embargo from ye ; speak 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 351 

outj man ; what are ye whispering for ? " and I found 
my voice as clear as a bell. 

If I might be permitted to offer advice, after twenty- 
six years' experience in public speaking, I would say 
to all who are thus engaged, avoid all nostrums for 
the throat. They may give temporary relief in certain 
cases, such as hoarseness, or stimulating the throat to 
moisture when feverish. I have tried them occasion- 
ally, and found a momentary relief; but I sincerely 
believe they are injurious, when used continually. I 
have heard speakers say they are never without some- 
thing of the kind ; — the mischief lies just there, — 
after using them freely for a time, they become a ne- 
cessity, even when they are doing a permanent injury. 
If the voice becomes hoarse, and the throat dry and 
husky, try cold water gargling ; or dash cold water 
on the throat, and back of the ears, three or four times 
in the day, and after speaking; and if that does not re- 
lieve, do as I did — rest till the voice recovers its tone ; 
and if the throat is not diseased, the tqhi/^'^v will not 
fail. I would sav that a piece of pure liquorice about 
as large as a small pea, or even a less quantity, taken 
into the mouth just before speaking, will relieve with- 
out injury. I make this statement, as the throat is the 
organ most important to a public speaker, and I give 
my experience for just Avhat it is worth. I once recom- 
mended an advertised remedy for the throat as reliev- 
ing a tickling cough, and it did relieve for a time. I 
have received a laro-e number of lozeno-es. and other 
preparations for the throat from the proprietors, re- 
questing recommendation, and they must not be angry 
with me because I send them none, as I do not try these 
things as a permanent cure for hoarseness. 



352 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHiq" B. GOUGH. 

On the occasion of a lecture in Sadlers Wells Thea- 
ter, on Wednesday, May 3d, an incident occurred of 
which the " London Illustrated News " speaks : — 

At the close occurred the incident which Mr. Cruikshank has de- 
scribed with his graphic pencil. It is well known that our artist is a 
total abstainer, and naturally he was unwilling to lose so good an op- 
portunity as then offered itself, for swelling the stream to which he be- 
longed. Accordingly he appealed to the audience to come forward and 
take the pledge. Nor was the appeal made in vain. A rush from box, 
and pit, and gallery was the result. A plank bridge was laid across 
from the pit to the stage, along which poured the living tide. A 
young lady was the first to lead the way ; her devotion was rewarded 
with cheers, such as seldom resound in any theater. Upwards of three 
hundred followed her example. The number would have been gi'eater 
had not the evening been far advanced, and the weary scene-shifters 
anxious to get home to bed. 

The Committee of the London League were very 
desirous that I should speak at Oxford. On propos- 
ing it to the friends of temperance in that city, they 
stated that it was doubtful if such a meeting could be 
held. A certain class of students had been in the 
habit of disturbing concerts, lectures, and the like, 
and it was thought they could not resist the oppor- 
tunity of some "fun" at a temperance lecture, — a 
subject held in contempt by a majority in the class to 
which these Oxford students belonged; and their 
"fun" was occasionally rather rough. They had 
smoked out a gentleman w^ho came to lecture to 
them on tobacco. Some scores of pipes and cigars 
were in full blast. The Oxford friends stated also, 
that, though they would do all they could to assist in 
the arrangements, and to promote the success of the 
meeting, no person known in that city would venture 
to preside, and the project had better be abandoned. 
The London committee were determined to make an 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHiT B. GOUGH. 355 

attempt to get a hearing for me there ; and I having 
consented, and a gentleman from London having 
agreed to preside, the evenings of Wednesday and 
Friday, June 13th and 15th, were appointed. I went 
down to Oxford on the 13th with three of four gen- 
tlemen of the League. On entering the hall, I found 
quite a large number of students, distinguished by 
their flat caps, and gowns. The introduction passed 
off quietly, and I was received with noisy demon- 
strations, not exactly complimentary. I proceeded 
in my speech. The majority seemed to be looking at 
me curiously, as I suppose a pugilist looks at his an- 
tagonist, watching the first opportunity to give him a 
" settler." At length I said, " What is the cause of the 
intemperance of Great Britain?" when a thin, squeak- 
ing voice called out, "Tempewanth thothietieth." At 
this there was a universal laugh ; but I happened to 
catch the exact tone of the speaker, and replied: "I 
beg your pardon, sir, but it is not tempewanth tho- 
thietieth at all." Then there was another laugh, and 
the noise began, — laughing, whistling, crowing, bray- 
ing, but no hissing; they were good-tempered, and 
simply wanted the "fun," — and I sympathized with 
them in that. A little harmless fun will hurt nobody. 
The scene became so irresistibly ludicrous, and the 
young gentlemen went into it with such a perfect 
abandon, and such evident enjoyment, that, though 
I felt compelled to maintain my dignity, (such as 
it was,) I was thoroughly amused, and internally 
chuckled while striving to keep my face straight. 
The volley of questions that were hurled at mo — 
some of them ridiculously personal, and some border- 
ing on the profane — were incessant for some time. 



356 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

There was no abuse, but simply rollicking fun. I 
kept my position on the platform, though I could 
not be heard. At every little lull I would say, ^' Gen- 
tlemen," — and then would come a storm of cheering. 
Look which way I would, I saw laughing faces. I 
turned to the chairman, and was amused to see him 
with a broad grin, and his mouth wide open, enjoy- 
ing it hugely, — till he saw me looking at him, when 
his mouth closed instantly, and he made futile efforts 
to look grave and serious; but in spite of his sober 
face, his eyes were twinkling with merriment. What 
was I to do? It would never do to give it up so. 
Their questions became after awhile more serious and 
answerable. 

One called out, " Who turned water into wine ? " 

To which I replied, so that they could hear me, 
"We have no objection to wine made of water." 

Then came a string of Bible questions. In one of 
the pauses of the din, I said in a loud tone of voice, 
" Gentlemen, fair play is a jewel." 

At this they cheered, and some shouted, "Fair 
play!" 

I said, " That is the Englishman's motto, — Fair 
play." 

"Yes, fair play!" 

^^Down in front!" 

"Hats off!" 

"No hats off!" 

"Caps on!" 

"Hurrah!" 

" Fair play ! " 

" Cock-a-doodle-doo ! '^ — were some of the cries 
that greeted me. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN" B. GOUGH. 357 

Again I shouted, "Fair play!" and then said: 
'^ Gentlemen, — I have a proposition, that I think will 
please you, and I like to please my audience." 

" Let's have it." 
, " Proposition ! Proposition ! " 

"Hush-sh-sh.!" 

I said : " We all believe in fair play ; and this, 
surely, is not fair play, — so many of you attacking 
one, and he a little one. My proposition will give us 
all fair play." 

" Proposition ! Proposition T' 

" Stop that noise ! " 

" Hush-sh-sh ! " 

"Down in front! " 

'^ The proposition is — that you choose your cham- 
pion, and he shall take the platform, and he and I will 
take it, ten minutes, turn about, and the rest of the 
audience shall judge who is the victor in this contest 
— he or I. That's fair." 

'' Yes, yes, that's fair," and there were some comi- 
cal proposals as to champion, and, as I suppose, per- 
sonal hits ; for there was loud laughing, where I could 
not see the point. But after a little confusion, no 
champion appearing, I was permitted, with very slight 
interruption, to continue to the end of my speech, 
and received hearty cheers at the conclusion. 

The next evening, my wife and I attended by invi- 
tation, a rendering of (Edipus, by Vandenhofl' and his 
daughter, the choruses being sung by the choirs of 
the cathedral, assisted by amateurs among the stu- 
dents. It was very fine. I was recognized with a 
smile, by some who w^ere at the meeting the night 
before. 



358 AUTOBIOGEAPHT OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

On Friday, I gave my second address, to an audi- 
ence as generous and enthusiastic as I ever spoke to. 
Several shook hands with me, and some told me I had 
spoken the truth. One of the proctors came to the 
platform, and shook my hand before the audience, 
and thanked me for the manner in which — as he was 
pleased to say — I had "managed the students;" and 
said : "If you had used hard language to them, or be- 
come angry, they would not have heard you." 

Thus ended my first and last visit to Oxford. 

I hold, and have always held, the right of any person 
to hiss if he is displeased. It may be very annoying; 
but I hold to the right of doing it ; and I have a per- 
fect right to reply to a hiss, if any one makes himself 
my personal antagonist by expressing his dissatisfac- 
tion in that way. I may reply to him, or make com- 
ments ; but I will not deny his right. I know very 
well that if, during the late war, I had heard some 
things said that were said, I should have hissed heart- 
ily, and maintained my right. There is a difference 
between a hiss and an offensive personal demonstra- 
tion. Once, I remember, a man sat in front of me, 
and cheered lustily at some portions of my address, 
till I began to give my views on questions that dis- 
pleased him, when he rose, and cocking his hat defi- 
antly, held up his clenched fist, and looking very 
fiercely, stalked out of the room with a great noise; 
and I think I was not out of order when I said : " If 
the doctrine of the transmigration of souls should be 
true — that when one man died, his soul passed into 
the body of another man just born — my opinion would 
be, that when that man was born, nobody died." 

On the 25th of July a farewell ''fete " was given at 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 359 

Hartwell House, the seat of John Lee, Esq., LL.D. 
Hon. Horace Greeley was present as an invited guest. 
The Friday before, I had attended a concert at Surrey 
Gardens, concluding with a display of fire-works. After 
the concert I was accosted, to my surprise, with — 
" Gough, are you going up there to see the fizz-bangs?" 
I turned, and saw Mr. Greeley. He called on us, and 
was invited by the " League " Committee to attend 
the/e^e. 

" Hartwell House " has its historical associations. 
It was erected by Sir Thomas Lee in 1570, and was 
one of the old baronial mansions celebrated for hospi- 
tality and good fare. It is a fine specimen of an En- 
glish mansion of the olden time. Paintings by the 
best masters, statuary by the first artists, cabinets of 
minerals of almost priceless value, Egyptian antiqui- 
ties, an immense library, with the most rare and costly 
curiosities, — are full of interest to the visitor. The 
family chapel contains, over the communion table, the 
Lee bearings and crest, with the shields of Lee, Hamp- 
den (the great John), and Harcourt. It was at Hart- 
well House that Louis XVIII. of France, with two 
hundred followers, lived when an exile, allowed by 
the British Government £20,000 per year. The then 
owner. Sir George Lee, being a bachelor, and not car- 
ing to live there, rented it to the ex-king and his court 
for £500 per year. Here he was visited by princes 
and French emigrant nobles, and here his queen died 
in 1810, and the bereaved king wrote to a friend: 
"Fear nothing for me; I have not suftbred in health. 
I am already at the point where I fear I shall remain, 
— no more tears, no more pangs of sorrow ; but a sin- 
cere regret — a void in my life which I feel a hundred 



360 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOH^' B. GOUGH. 

times a day." Here the French ladies, being very fond 
of flowers, formed gardens in every imaginable nook. 
We were shown, on the immense roof of the house, 
where these gardens once flourished. It was from 
^•'Hartwell House" that the deposed king issued those 
celebrated manifestoes that were so futile in restoring 
him. Some of these were presented to us by Mr. Lee as 
curiosities. It was at the doors of "Hartwell House" 
that the carriages drove up, and the king was informed 
that Napoleon was deposed ; and from these doors he 
departed, embarking at Dover and returning to France. 
The bedrooms are named after those who formerly 
occupied them, — ^-'the King's room," "the Queen's 
room," '' Charles the Tenth's room," " Cardinal 
Eheim's room," and so on. We were appointed to 
Charles the Tenth's room. We were much interested 
in the place, and the generous hospitality of Mr. Lee. 
Meetmsrs were held for two davs in a laro:e "Marquee " 
— speeches were made ; my farewell address was given; 
there were quoits and cricket, and about ^\q thou- 
sand persons enjoyed the day on the grounds. In 
the evening fire-works were given. One piece pre- 
sented the sentence, in colored fire, ••Farewell to 
John B. Gough." As we grouped together in the 
large bay window, some dozen of us, I hardly ever 
remember to have felt more sad at a festive occasion, 
as letter after letter of the sentence that just before 
was blazino^ with lisht, went out in darkness. A 
fear crept over me that so, j^erhaps, I might go out; 
and as the sadness came on me, I could not control 
myself, and though, ••'unused to tears," they rolled 
down my face as I sat there, watching the gradual 
dying out of the blazing letters of ••farewell." 



r 



AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHJST B. GOUGH. 363 

Genial George Gruikshank was there, the life of 
the party. Tweedie, Campbell, White, (who wrote 
an excellent description of the scene, and from whose 
little book I have obtained information respecting the 
house, and its associations,) Howlett, and so many 
friends of the past two years, and many of them for 
evermore, were there. 

In the morning at breakfast, the steward came in 
to report that, on a careful examination of the grounds, 
they found not a flower plucked, not a border tram- 
pled on; not a particle of damage could be discov- 
ered in the garden or ground, though five thousand 
persons had roamed where they would, without let or 
hindrance. 

Mr. Lee said : ^^ Gentlemen, that speaks well for the 
good behavior of teetotalers;" and he added: "I re- 
quested the steward to make his report before you, 
thinking it might gratify you to know it." 

About sixty persons were entertained by Mr. Lee 
during the two days of the fete. The London Tem- 
perance League presented to me a very fine dinner 
service for eighteen, of pure silver, beautifully ar- 
ranged in a solid oak plate chest, with trays, and re- 
ceptacles for spoons and forks, — a costly gift, but more 
valuable to me than gold or silver, was the kindness, 
sympathy, and friendship, that prompted -to the gen- 
erous donation. 

Often, during the two years' work in the country, I 
had witnessed the distress and miserj^ brought upon 
the innocent, by the intemperance of those near to 
them. An awful peculiarity of this vice is, that it 
not only blasts the victim, but scorches all connected 
with him ; it ruins the man, and brings misery on 



23 



o 



64 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 



wives, cliildreii, parents, brotliers and sisters. The 
tender-hearted are made cruel, the generous made 
selfish, the noble made mean, the high-spirited be- 
come debased, the ambitions become hopeless, the 
proud become groveling, and degraded; beauty is 
blighted, purity defiled; all that is noble, glorious, 
and God-like in a man, is blasted and mildewed by 
the damning influence of drink. Could we lift the 
curtain that conceals from our view the secrets of the 
charnel-house, every eye would be dimmed by the 
hideous sight, every heart would swell with an indig- 
nant and fierce resolve, to battle to the death, any 
agency that could by any possibility produce such un- 
told horrors. 

Hear the cry of despair from the wretched sufferers, 
coming up from the depths, and listen to the wailing 
of women and children — and be still, if vou can. One 
wom.an writes me, "It would take weeks to tell you 
all I have suffered from a drunken husband." 

Another writes : " I have heard you picture tales 
of misery, but not one where the child of a drunkard 
has suffered what I have." 

Another : " Ah ! how my heart aches, when I think 
of all we have passed through. I often look at my 
poor father, and say to my dear mother : ' Oh ! if Mr. 
Gough could only look here — would not this give 
him a subject ? ' Oh ! my poor, ^ooy father — my 
broken-hearted mother ! My hand trembles, and 
tears come unbidden to my eyes, when I think of 
what we have to endure. I was oblisced to leave 
school between eleven and twelve, as about that time 
my poor father became a complete idiot, and I have 
been obliged to be pushed about in the world with 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN" B. GOUGH. 365 

the rest of our family, as best we can ; and what has 
caused all this, but strong drink ?" 

A mother writes: "0, God! the staff of mv old 
age is broken — my boy is a drunkard ! " 

Kead this from a young lady: "In the beginning 
of the war, my father enlisted ; my eldest brother 
would not remain at home, and followed him to the 
army; my second brother served in the navy; my 
mother, whose health was delicate, a younger brother, 
and two sisters — mere children — were left at home. 
We suffered privation and hardships; we bore all 
cheerfully; when the crushing intelligence came that 
father died in Virginia. Still we bore up; when the 
news came that my brother in the navy was dead. 
This was hard — but w^e did not despair; but oh! the 
heavens. grew black as midnight, and the load crushed 
us to the earth, when my eldest brother came home 
a hopeless, confirmed drunkard. Then mother's heart 
broke; and now, with feeble health, I am struggling 
on alone. Perhaps this is presumption in me to tell 
you this. Use it as you will; but do not let the wri- 
ter's name be seen by others, as an unsympathizing 
world should never know^ of private trouble." 

A distressed father, pleading for an only son, writes : 
^^My son has ruined me, and is bringing his poor 
mother to the grave, broken-hearted. Oh, sir, try 
to reach my son. I would give my life for his — my 
only son. Can he be reformed? All wo can do has 
been in vain. If you will try to help him to see his 
folly, may God reward you, and we will give you our 
lasting blessing ! " 

Another: "I have never known but one sorrow. 
My father, mother, sisters, and brother had gone to 



366 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHJS" B. GOUGH. 

their last liome, and left me alone. I thought that 
was sorrow, but I was mistaken. Now I have a sor- 
row, a great heavy sorrow ; how it crushes me ! al- 
most insupportable. Friends say, 'Leave the cause.' 
Can I forget, if I leave ? They cannot* understand 
how I can love a man that has forgotten to respect 
himself. Poor man, but thirty- three years old. Many 
a long night have I spent watching him in delirium 
tremens, fearing he would die. God help me ! for my 
great sprrow is beyond the help of man. My heart 
is sick. I have a boy — a fine little fellow. How I 
have trembled for him, lest he should follow his fa- 
ther's footsteps! He is quick and impulsive ; is fond 
of his father ; and has asked : ' Can't I drink beer 
if father does?' I took him — the little fellow — to 
hear you. When he came home, he said : ' Mother, 
I'll be temperance, and I'll sign the pledge.' I had 
no pledge, so I wrote what I thought would answer, 
and he has signed it; and now he says: 'I'll never 
drink, and I shall tell Mr. Gough that I have not 
drank cider since I first saw him.' Oh! if you could 
help my husband. Forgive me for troubling you. 
If you cannot help us, pray for us. I have many 
times, in agony of spirit, offered up the prayer I 
found in your book.* My Father knows I would 
rather all this should come upon me, than my hus- 
band should die a drunkard." 

One lady, after relating her sufferings, writes : " I 
will stand up for the temperance cause, I will pray 
for the temperance cause, I will work for the temper- 
ance cause, I will do all I can by example, for the 
temperance cause. 

*See page 116. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 367 

. " ' Tell me I bate the bowl- 
Hate is a feeble word : 

I loathe — abhor — my very soul 
With strong disgust is stirred, 

Whene'er I see, or hear, or tell, 

Of the dark beverage of hell.' " 

In some of these cases I obtained interviews, and 
did what I could; but oh! it is hard — very hard. 
" How long, Lord, how long ? " 

I will copy no more. 

My heart aches at such revelations, and I gather 
the letters before me— more than a hundred — and 
place them in the drawer where they have lain as 
they accumulated, dumb records of trials and suffer- 
ings, of darkness and despair, of blasted hopes, blighted 
prospects, blackened characters, and lost souls — some 
of them too terrible to repeat ; but all known to Him 
who has said : " Wo unto him that giveth his neighbor 
drink, that puttest thy bottle to him, and makest him 
drunken also. Thou art filled with shame for glory: 
the cup of the Lord's right hand shall be turned unto 
thee, and shameful spewing shall be on thy glory; 
for the violence of Lebanon shall cover thee, because 
of men's blood, and for the violence of the land, of the 
city, and of all that dwell therein." — Habakkuk ii, 15, 

16, n. 

I have made these extracts from letters received 
both in this country and Great Britain. 

A young lady called on me in London — one of the 
most beautiful women I ever saw — dying of consump- 
tion. She said: "I have come to see vou on behalf 
of my brother. Since my poor fatlicr and mother 
died, I have been his principal support.'* 

I asked, "Is he disabled?" 



368 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

"Oh! sir," she said, "do not judge him harshly. 
He is naturally noble-hearted and generous; but he 
has gone into dissipation. I am a governess. I am 
not fit to be teaching. I procure him a situation, 
and he loses it through drink, and comes to me. I 
cannot turn him away, and I support him. What can 
I do ? We are orphans, and he has no friend but me." 

She became very much agitated, and pressed her 
hands on her chest, as if to stay the cough that was 
killing her, and said: 

"I am in great distress; my cough troubles me 
much at night; but I have a worse trouble than my 
illness. I have lain awake many nights, thinking of 
him. He has lately been in possession of considera- 
ble money, and I have feared for some developments 
that might disgrace us; for though w^e are reduced, 
our name is without a stain. I have dreaded to ask 
him where he obtained it; but I know now." 

The tears were flowing fast as she sobbed out: 

'^ He has broken open a desk of mine, and robbed 
me of every penny I have been saving for years, for 
my sickness, my death, and my burial, — for I cannot 
live long, — and he has left me destitute — and oh ! it 
is too bad." 

Too bad ! For a brother to rob a sick and dying 
sister — yes, too bad ; but just what drink will do. 
There is no meanness under heaven, no crime how- 
ever dastardly, that the love of that drink will not 
drive a man to. 

But you say " That young man was a brute." 

No! no! not a brute. I received a letter from a 
lady who, w4ien she gave it to me, holding my hand 
in hers, said: "Kead it, Mr. Gougli; and may it en- 



AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 369 

courage you!" I give an extract: "You may re- 
member the young man whose sister, a governess, 
called on you more than tvfo years ago. From the 
day you saw him, to his death, he tasted no drink. A 
course of dissipation, acting on a highly sensitive or- 
ganization, induced disease ; but during a long illness, 
he gave his heart to the Saviour, and died with a 
blessed hope of a glorious immortality. He was very 
dear to me " (these w^ords were underscored). " I was 
with him during his illness, and on the night before 
he died, he turned to me and said: 'Tell Mr. Gough 
that the blessing of one ready to perish shall come 
upon him.' His sister is just alive. I saw her last 
night, and her message to you was : ' Inasmuch as ye 
have done it to one of the least of these, ye have 
done it unto me.' " 

How "I hate the drink, when I know that it trans- 
forms the noble into the base, and makes generous 
men mean and cruel. 

A lady told me : " I am the daughter of a Doctor 
of Divinity. My mother has been afl&icted with 
heart disease; my brother George is a drunlvard. 
When he goes off on what they call a spree, mj 
mother is sick. About three months since, when my 
brother came home, my father asked him to look at 
his mother, and then come to him in the library. 
When there, he said to him : ' George, my son, your 
mother lies sick. She loves you in the core of her 
heart; many a night's vigil has she kept by your 
bedside. When you were suffering, you made no 
motion she did not notice, uttered no sound she did 
not hear, and she was prompt to minister to vou. 
She lies there now, and my son, it is not rhetoric, but 



370 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOH^" B. GOUGH. 

fact, if your mother dies, you have hilled Aer.'" The 
lady then, standing up. with her hands clasj)ed, her 
face working with agony, said : '^ Oh ! Mr. Gongh, 
my mother now lies at the point of death, and my 
brother George has been drunk for ten days." 

I have facts so terrible that I dare not write them. 
And yet, this ruin is going on. A new generation is 
coming up — what shall we do for them ? If I have 
stirred one heart to indignation, that shall move the 
head to plan, and the hand to work against this evil, 
I am content, and will not ask my reader to pardon 
me that I have led him for a brief space through such 
scenes of wretchedness. It is worth a mighty effort 
to save a man. To rescue a man from such thralldom 
is worth a life-time of labor. I have been struck 
with this fact, that in almost every instance, when a 
man has been induced only to make an effort at re- 
form — hardened as he may have become through a 
long course of sin and self-indulgence — the moment 
he makes the first effort, he becomes softened, as if 
his good angel stooped to touch his heart, and unseal 
the fountain of human feeling, so long sealed up by 
the influence of his habits. 

A man at whose house I was a guest, told me that 
he had been a hard drinker and a cruel husband; had 
beaten his poor wife till she had almost become used 
to it; but, said he: "The very moment I signed the 
pledge, I thought of my wife, — what will my wife 
say to this ? Strange, that I should think of my wife 
the first thing ; but I did ; and as I was going home, 
I said to myself: ^Now, if I go home and tell her all 
of a sudden that I have signed the pledge, she'll faint 
away, or she'll up and do something; and I must break 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOH^nT B. GOUGH. 371 

it to her by degrees. Only think of it! — why, the 
night before, I should have knocked her down, just as 
like as not, if she had not looked to please me; and 
now, I am planning to break good news to her, for 
fear it will upset her.' " 

As near as I could gather from what he told me, he 
found his wife sitting over the embers, waiting for 
him. As he came into the house, he said: ^^ Nancy, I 
think that — I think that" — — 

"Well, Ned, what is it?" 

"Why, I think I shall — that is — I mean to — to — 
Nancy, I mean to" 

"What's the matter, Ned? — anything the matter?" 

^' Yes," said he, "the matter is just this, — I have 
signed the temperance pledge, and so help me God, 
I'll keep it." She started to her feet, and she did 
faint away. I was just in time to catch her, and as 
she lay in my arms, her eyes shut and her face so 
pale, thinks I, she's dead, and I have done it now. 
But she wasn't dead; she opened her eyes, and then 
she put her arms round my neck, and I did not know 
she was so strong, as she pulled, and pulled, till she 
got me down, where I had not been before for thirty 
years, — on my knees ; and then she said : " Oh ! God, 
help him;" and I said "Amen;" and she said: "' Oh! 
God help my poor Ned, and strengthen him to keep 
his pledge ; " and I hollered "' Amen! " just as loud as 
I could holler; and she kept praying, and I kept hol- 
lering — you never heard a Methodist, in the biggest 
revival you ever saw, holler as loud as I did : — I had 
like to split my throat, I hollered "Amen" so loud. 
That was the first time we ever knelt too-other : — but 
it was not the last." 



CHAPTER XXYI. 

Address to Outcasts — "Fire" — "One of Us" — Arrival Home — First 
Speech in Philadelphia — First Visit to Chicago — Impressions — 
The West — Christian Influence — Return Home — A Wedding — Sum- 
mer's Rest — Work in the Church and Sunday-School — Rev. George 
Gould — Death of William Lincoln — Second Visit to Chicago — Cin- 
cinnati — Work in Boston, New York, and Pennsylvania — Return 
Home — Preparations for Second Trip to England — Farewell Picnic — 
Address in Worcester — Departure. 

I HAVE more than once spoken to an audience of 
what are termed '^outcasts;" and a pitiful sight it is. 
On one occasion I addressed eight hundred, and o^ 
another — in Glasgow — over three thousand. The city 
missionaries had, by their influence, induced the "poor 
creatures to come. There were rags, and filth, and 
degradation, beyond description. It seemed as if the 
last lingering trace of human beauty had been dashed 
out by the hoof of debauchery, and the die of devil 
stamped on the defaced image of God; and all of them 
human beings, with hearts, and souls, with a love for 
the pure and beautiful, — men and women, — yes, and 
children, — with such human histories of want, and 
suffering, privation and misery, as might well be 
traced in tears and written in blood. 

On one occasion, as I entered the audience room, 
where some hundreds of this class had assembled, 
with the provost of the borough and a minister of 
the town, who accompanied me, the former said, 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 373 

as we came in: "Mr. Gougli, you have ^Fire' in the 
house to-night." 

I asked^ "What do you mean?" 

He saidj "Do you see that tall woman, near the 
platform." 

"Yes.'^ 

"Her nickname is ^Hell-fire;' she is known by no 
other name in the vicinity of her wretched residence. 
When she appears in the street, the boys cry ^Fire! 
Fire!' She is the most incorrigible woman in the 
borough. She has been brought before me scores of 
times, and sentenced to imprisonment from four days 
to six months. She is ripe for mischief, and if she 
makes a disturbance, you will see such a row as you 
never saw before. The power of the woman's tongue 
in blasphemy is horrible." 

When I rose to address the audience I expected a 
row, and confess to a nervous feeling of apprehension. 
I spoke to them as men and women, not as outcasts, 
or things. I told them poverty was hard to bear; 
but there might be comfort, light, and peace with 
poverty; told them I had been poor, very poor; 
spoke to them of my mother, and her struggles; then 
of her faith, and love, and hope; that there was no 
degradation in poverty ; — only sin caused that. In 
proportion to wrong-doing was the degradation, — and 
so on. I saw a naked arm and hand lifted in the 
crowd, and heard a voice cry out: "That's all true." 

The woman ("Fire") rose to her feet, and facing 
me, said: "That's a' true, mon, — ye'ro tolling the 
truth;" and stretching her arms to the audience, 
said: "The mon kens what he's talkino- aboot." 

When I concluded, she came on the platform, and 



374 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF J0H:N' B. GOUGH. 

I almost thought she might tackle me. She was a 
large woman, and looked like a hard hitter, and I 
never desired to come in contact with '' strong- 
minded" or big-fisted women; but after looking at 
me a moment, she said: "Tak' a gude look at me, 
mon. I'm a bit of a beauty, ain't I?" Then, com- 
ing close to me, "Would you gi'e a body like me the 
.pledge?" 

I answered at once, "Yes, ma'am." 

A gentleman said: "She cannot keep it; she will 
be drunk before she goes to bed to-night; — better not 
give her the pledge." 

I turned to her: "Madam, here is a gentleman who 
says you cannot keep it if you sign it." 

Clenching her fist, she said, ^'Show me the mon." 

I asked, " Can you keep it?" 

"Can I? — if I say I wuU, I can." 

"Then say jom will." 

^^I wull." 

"Give me your hand on that," — and I shook hands 
with her. She signed it, and I said: "I know you 
will keep it; and before I go to. America I will come 
and see you." 

"Come and see me when you wull," she answered, 
"and you'll find I ha'e keepit it." 

It must have been two years from that time, I was 
speaking there again, and after the lecture, a gen- 
tleman said to me: "I wish to introduce to j'ou an 
old friend, whom perhaps you have forgotten, — ^Mrs. 
Archer,' no longer ^Fire.'" 

I was introduced, and shook hands heartily with 
her and her daughter, who sat by her. I had noticed 
the woman during my speech, for she hardly took her 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 375 

eyes off me, from the time I rose till I sat down. I 
went to her house, and part of what she said to me 
was this : — 

"Ah! Mr. Gough, I'm a puir body; I dinna ken 
much, and what little I ha'e kenned has been knocked 
out of me by the staffs of the policemen ; for they 
beat me aboot the head a good deal, and knocked 
prutty much a' the sense out of me ; but sometimes 
I ha'e a dream— I dream I'm drunk, and fichting, and 
the police ha'e got me again ; and then I get out of 
my bed, and I go down on my knees, and I don't go 
back to my bed till the daylight comes, and I keep 
saying : ' God keep me — for I canna get drunk any 
mair. 

Her daughter said : " Aye, mon ; I've heered my 
mither in. the dead of night, on the bare floor, crying 
' God keep me;' and I've said, — ' Come to yer bed, 
mither, ye'll be cauld ; ' and she'll tell me ; ' No, no, 
— I canna get drunk any mair.' " 

I received a letter from the provost of the borough, 
dated February 1869, telling me that Mrs. Archer 
("Fire") had been faithful to her promise, was keep- 
ing a small provision store or shop ; had taken a lit- 
tle orphan boy out of the streets, and was bringing 
him up well ; and sending me her photograph. I 
had heard from various sources she was doing well, 
and doing good. Soon after she had signed the 
pledge, she obtained employment in sewing coarse 
sacks, and earned about ten cents per da}'. Some 
one gave her a Bible, and wet or dry, rain or shine, 
she would go every Sabbath to the mission chapel. 
There she became a Christian ; and I was told that 
she employed her spare time in endeavoring to re- 



376 AUTOBIOGKAPHT OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

form others. I gave her a pound note when I saw 
her at the meeting, and when I called, her daughter 
asked me to see what her mother had bought with it. 
On the bed was a pair of warm, woolen blankets, and 
she said : " Mither took the pound, and bought the 
blankets for saxteen shillings^ and brought back the 
four to me. I am never afraid to trust my mither 
now." 

What a rebuke to those who, when asked to give 
up some indulgence, tell you — "I can't, I can't." 
This woman, in the midst of poverty, surrounded by 
every temptation, and a whole life-association with 
evil influences, determining "I will," and conquering 
her appetite, coming out into a new life, and becom- 
ing respected, reliable, and useful. I know some 
young men, with every home influence to aid them, 
and every inducement offered them, crying, "I can't." 

One more incident, relating to these interesting 
cases of reform, and I pass on. At a meeting where 
I saw some of the most degraded creatures I ever 
met in a public assembly, a man and a woman came 
forward together, when signatures were invited to the 
pledge. I hardly supposed they intended to sign it, 
for they were such miserable, forlorn-looking crea- 
tures; the man appeared as if the drink had scorched 
up his intellect, — bowed down, — his hands nervously 
twitching — looking so silly that you could hardly im- 
agine a grain of sense was left to him. But the wo- 
man was utterly indescribable. A fierce looking vi- 
rago, dirty, slovenly, half-dressed — dressed! she was 
not dressed at all; a heap of filthy rags tied round 
her waist by a bit of rope, and above that, literally 
nothing but an old shawl, twisted and brought over 



AUTOBIOGKAPHT OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 377 

one slioiilder and under the other. To my astonish- 
ment they both signed the pledge, — or rather, left 
such marks as a fly, taken out of the inkstand and 
set to run over the paper would make. The secre- 
tary of the society, with others, were busy in making 
out certificates for those who wished to join the soci- 
ety. These certificates were quite attractive — fit for 
framing — ^being jirinted in colored letters, and for 
which sixpence was charged. The payment of this 
sum, with the certificate, constituted them members 
of the society. The man looked dreamily and yet 
wistfully at the certificates, and I said to some gentle- 
men near me : '^ Please do not say anything to this 
couple \ I y/ish to see what they will do." 

After a few moments, the poor fellow said to his 
wife: "I'd like to join, and get a stiffkit." 

"There's sixpence to pay for them things," said the 
woman, very sharply. 

"But," pleaded the man, "I would like to get a 
stiffkit." 

"There's sixpence to pay on them things; now you 
come 'long o' me," said the woman, pulling him away. 

"No I won't," he answered, — almost whining, — ^^I 
won't go 'long o' you; I want a stiffkit." 

The woman looked fierce, and the man looked stu- 
pidly dogged, and there was a prospect of a very un- 
interesting family jar taking place, when a gentleman 
stepped up and said: "Well, good people, I hope you 
will sign the pledge." 

He spoke very kindly, and the man looked up. and 
said quickly: "We liam signed the pledge, me and 
my missus, — she's my missus, — and we want to get a 
stiffkit, and join the 'ciety." 



378 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

"Wellj why do you not?" 

"There's sixpence to pay for 'em." 

" That need make no difference/' said the gentleman 
cheerily. "Here, Mr. Secretary, make these good peo- 
ple out a couple of certificates, and here is the shil- 
ling for them." 

The effect produced by his kind and cheery man- 
ner was surprising. The man was affected very dif- 
ferently from the w^oman. He looked more manly^ 
and stood erect; she looked fierce — almost savage — 
as if resenting the first approach to kindness. The 
secretary asked the man's name, as they could not be 
deciphered on the pledge. He gave his name, and 
with a pleased expression received the embossed card 
of membership. Then the woman was asked her 
name, and she stood sulky; her eye grew cold and 
hard as granite; no answer. Again she w^as kindly 
asked to give her name; no reply; but her brows 
knit and grew dark, as if a storm w^as brewing. She 
gave a quick, nervous glance around her; but no 
reply. 

''' Come, madam, if you please, we will take your 
name. Your husband has his certificate, and we have 
one for you ; we only wish you to give us your name 
— -it is the rule for those who receive these cards to 
give their names ; we are willing to wait for you." 

Still no reply; but the mouth twitched nervously, 
and her fingers were twisted together. Suddenly she 
lifted her arm, as if to strike a blow — but no ! it was 
to dash away a tear ! Then another — and another — 
but they would come ; so, covering her face with her 
hands, she let them come. How she did cry ! The 
tears ran over her hands — she could not, nor did she 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN" B. GOUGH. 379 

try to, keep them back. We stood near her, our eyes 
dim ; but not a word was spoken. At last she hastily 
took down her arms, and shaking out the shawl, drew 
it over her shoulders, and with both hands held it over 
her breast, and stood with bowed head. The word of 
kindness had stirred the white ashes that covered the 
last spark of the woman, and she stood, literally 
clothed and in her right mind. The name was soon 
given, the certificate handed to her, and the two poor 
creatures looked positively bewildered at each other 
— the man at her, and she at him. Degraded, debased, 
wretched, filthy, vicious — the dark cloud seemed to be 
lifting, and God only knew what was in their hearts^ 
as they looked, almost lovingly, each in the other's 
face. 

The gentleman who had paid the shilling, laid his 
hand on the man's shoulder, and said : " Now re- 
member you are one of us. You have signed the 
temperance pledge, you belong to the society, and 
you must always remember you are one of us. 

"Did ye hear that, old woman?" cried out the man. 
"Did ye hear that? He says we're ^one of its,^ 
Come away wi' me — ^one of us' — the gentleman — - 
^one of us' — " and they went out of the hall. 

Three years and more had passed, when, at the 
close of a lecture in a town some distance from where 
this occurred, a person told me that a man wished to 
see me. 

I asked, "Who is it?" 

He replied, "He is a mechanic; he has been living 
here some time, and is an active member of our so- 
ciety. He says if I tell you it's " one of us,' you'll 

know." 

24 



380 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

^^Show him up." 

And a man clean, tidj, healthy, and respectable, 
grasped my hand. I told him how glad I was to 
meet him, — that I should not have known him, — and 
then said : " Have you ever seen the gentleman who 
said ^you're one of us?'" 

"No, sir; I've never seen him since. You see, I 
don't move in that class of people, and I left the town 
soon after, and got work here; but I'll never forget 
him, if I never meet him till I meet him in heaven. 
I'll tell him then, how his good, kind words helped 
me when I needed help. Ah! Mr. Gough, you ought 
to see my wife, — she's a changed woman now; and 
she remembers him; and when she teaches the chil- 
dren to say their prayers, she weaves in little bits 
beautiful, that God would bless him. She's a knowing 
woman. Ah! well, good-bye, Mr. Gough; wish ye a 
safe voyage home, and come back to us again. Good- 
bye, — God bless ye!" 

Oh ! I thank the Master, that I have been permitted 
to know so many of such cases; to hear so nmny 
"God bless ye's" from those who have been helped to 
reform through the agency of the glorious temper- 
ance movement. I love to recall them, and I love to 
write them as encouragement to others to help in a 
warfare, whose trophies are men and women re- 
deemed from the power of sin, evil habit, and an 
awful curse. 

On Friday, August 17th, we reached home, after 
an absence of two years and fourteen daj^s. Home, 
sweet home ! Though kindly treated, and busied in 
pleasant work, our hearts had many times yearned 
towards the dear old "Bay State," and our home. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOH]N' B. GOUGH. 381 

We were delighted, and like children, in our glee at 
being once more at home. We went from room to 
room, exploring every nook and corner. " Our home ! " 
We were filled with thankfulness, and slept but little 
that night. Even the "Yankee twang," so much rid- 
iculed, was musical to us. "I guess" — how we en- 
joyed hearing again the familiar expression, I guess! 
Yes, we are at home. Now for a little rest; and then 
to work. Next day a deputation came to us from 
New York and New Jersey. We found letters from 
all parts of the country calling for service; so, after 
resting till October 4th, I commenced in Philadelphia, 
where we w^ere entertained by Leonard Jewell, and his 
son and daughter, Mr. and Mrs. H. H. Eeed. Their 
house has been our home ever since, during our fre- 
quent visits to the city of "brotherly love" — and very 
hospitable and pleasant we have always found it. 

I continued lecturing in New York State, as far as 
Buffalo; returned home November 6th to prepare for 
a trip to Chicago ; spoke in Hartford and New Haven, 
and, by way of Elmira, traveled to Chicago; from thence 
to St. Louis, where w^e spent a week, and I delivered 
six lectures ; then through Illinois, on our way to Cleve- 
land, and home — arriving there January 2, 1856. 

I had often been invited to Chicago, and give a 
portion of a letter from there, dated February 28, 
1848, inviting me to lecture on temperance : — 

The importance of tbe field is such that we trust nothing will pre- 
vent your acceding to our request. "We have a city of seventeen thou- 
sand inhabitants, and a spirited class of ladies and gentlemen, who will 
greet you, and a class of young men who are in danger. It was a unan- 
imous call from a large meeting, to ask you to visit us as soon as you 
can. [Signed] Aauon Gibbs, 

CiiAKLES Walker. 



382 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

I could not accept this invitation, and had not been 
able before to arrange for a visit ; but I arrived in 
Chicago on Friday, December 7, 18 55, and found a 
population of more than one hundred thousand; at this 
present time I am told that the city contains about 
three hundred thousand. I have often wished that I 
could have labored there, and been identified, by my 
work, with the infancy of what is destined to be a gi- 
ant among the cities of the world. I was received 
there by Mr. E. S. Wells, through whose instrument- 
ality I came, and who entertained me in his delightful 
home — made so by warm hearts and generous natures ; 
and he and his noble wife, and their children, will be 
pleasantly remembered and associated with my first 
visit to ChicagOo I delivered seven lectures there, and 
one each in Elgin, 111., Milwaukee, Wis., Waukegan, 
Bloomington, Alton, and Springfield, 111. ; besides the 
six in St. Louis. 

This being my first view of the West, my impres- 
sions were those of wonder, almost amounting to awe, 
at the vast resources and the certain future import- 
ance and power of the great West. I leave it for 
others, who are able, to write of the West and its des- 
tiny ; prophets all, and true, when they tell of her 
progress and coming magnificence — for she grows 
before our eyes almost passing belief, and will grow 
year by year, as the bands of iron have united her to 
the Pacific, and made her the great highway of the 
nations of the earth, to the regions almost unknown 
in the beginning of this generation. 

Every Christian must look at the West with in- 
terest and deep anxiety for the enlightenment of the 
Western mind, and the establishment of the princi- 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHI^ B. GOUGH. 383 

pies of a pure Christianity. West of the Mississippi, 
what a domain is rapidly coming into cultivation and 
settlement ! What a population of millions must oc- 
cupy the vast territory. It is for Christians to decide 
whether these fertile lands shall be over-run with 
heathenism and infidelity, or flooded with the light of 
Christian education. It is a grand thing to live in 
these times of battle for right or wrong, for good or 
evil, for Christ or Belial. The field is vast — the op- 
posing elements to good are powerful; the god of 
this world is marshalling his forces to " go up and 
possess the land; " but if all who love the Lord Jesus 
will, in His name, set up their banners, and come to 
the " help of the Lord against the mighty," the issues 
of such a conflict are sure ; for " greater is He that is 
for us than all they that be against us ; " and we may 
thus co-operate with God and holy angels in prevent- 
ing sin, and in establishing His kingdom in this great 
gathering-place of the nations. Men and women are 
laboring for this, full of faith. May our God speed 
their eflbrts ! 

Before leaving Great Britain, I had made an agree- 
ment to return in two years, under engagements with 
the "London Temperance League," and "Scottish 
, Temperance League," (the head-quarters of the latter 
being in Glasgow,) eight months of each year in Eng- 
land, and four months in Scotland, the eno-ao'cments 
to terminate at the expiration of three years; the 
number of lectures to be two hundred per year; the 
terms, as before, ten guineas per lecture, and travel- 
ing expenses; the two Leagues agreeing to devote a 
few wrecks to Ireland. My work in 1850 was with 
this in view, involving a large amount o'( travel. 



884 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOH^ B. GOUGH. 

as I was desirous of covering as much territory as 
possible, applications from all parts of the country 
being numerous. Till June 2d, I continued almost 
constantly at work in New York, New Jersey, Penn- 
sylvania, Maryland, Massachusetts, Connecticut, Rhode 
Island, New Hampshire, and Maine, visiting the cities 
of Washington, Baltimore, Philadelphia, New York, 
Brooklyn, Providence, Portland, and Boston. On the 
2d of May, I came home for a few days, to attend a 
wedding of my wife's sister, Sarah, who was married 
by Dr. Kirk of Boston, on the 6th, to William Lin- 
coln of Oakham, — the first wedding in our house. 
To this wedding, Mrs. A. B. Knox, with her little 
daughter, not two years old, and her sister. Miss 
Mary A. Booth, came as 'visitors, and have remained 
as members of our family, till the marriage, on April 
3d, of Mary Booth, to George E. Gladwin, an artist; 
now a professor in the Worcester County Free Insti- 
tute of Industrial Science. Since that time her sister 
and niece have continued with us, and are now mem- 
bers of our household. 

On the 2d of June, I returned home for the sum- 
mer's rest, and became very much interested in the 
church and Sabbath-school at Boylston. The church 
being without a pastor, I made some exertion to pro- 
vide the pulpit with ministers — which brought me in 
contact with some noble men, many of whom became 
my valued friends. 

My pastor, Dr. Kirk of Boston, often visited us, 
and spent many days under our roof. We were, 
and are still, members "of his church, though we are 
rarely able to attend; but in consideration of my 
way of life, the church kindly agreed that we should 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 385 

hold our membership. Though necessarily absent so 
much^ we were very loth to dissolve our connection 
therC; as many associations in the past, have bound 
us in tenderest ties to the dear church on Mount 
Yernon. 

The late Dr. Dutton of New Haven, was with us 
for three Sabbaths; my dear old friend Rev. T. L. 
Cuyler preached for us. The season was a most de- 
lightful one to us. I entered the Sabbath-school as a 
teacher, and — astonishing to relate — though I knew 
nothing of music, I led the choir — that is, selected 
the tunes. I have always looked back to that sum- 
mer with delight. A revival took place in the church, 
and many were added as members. 

I remember well the day when Dr. Kirk preached 
from the text : " How shall we escape, if we neglect 
so great salvation." After the sermon, he said he 
would hold a meeting in the evening, for he believed 
the Spirit of God was there in power. At that meet- 
ing, he requested all who wished to speak to him on 
their soul's interest, to come into the vestry. As one 
after another rose, and followed him, we sat almost 
dumb with surprise. Tears filled many eyes, and 
when the last had left the church to follow^ Dr. Kirk, 
we were mute, till some one said, " Let us pray," and 
we held a prayer-meeting in the church, while he was 
conversing with the persons in the vestry. As we 
were separating, a lady said, '' We ought to have an- 
other prayer-meeting." Some one asked, '* Where 
shall we have it?" She said, "In my house." I at' 
once called their attention, and, without thought, an- 
nounced, "There will be a prayer-meeting on Tues- 
day night at the house of Mrs. '' 



386 ATJTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

No prayer-lneeting had been held for some months. 
On Tuesday evening, accompanied by our valued 
friend, Mr. George C. Kipley, who was visiting us, I 
went with others of our family to the house, and 
found the room filled, but not a male member of the 
church present. A table was set^ with two lamps, 
a Bible, and hjniin book; there was a Methodist, 
and a Baptist friend present, but I was requested to 
lead the meeting. Very much embarrassed, I took 
the seat by the table, and read the fifty-first Psalm, 
gave out a hymn, and tried to ask for help. Mr. 
Eipley engaged in prayer, followed, by the Metho- 
dist friend ; and I asked one or two if they had any- 
thing to say. A young man rose and said : " This 
is the first time I ever spoke in such a place as this 
— but — " and he became so affected that he sud- 
denly sat down ; the effect of his broken words 
was felt by all. Another meeting was appointed, 
and during the entire summer we held meetings, 
and thirty-four (if I remember rightly) were added to 
the church. 

Among the ministers who came to preach for us, 
was the Rev. George Gould, and from our first meet- 
ing we became friends — not in the ordinary accepta- 
tion of that term, but we loved each other at first 
sight. There was a rare tenderness in our friendship. 
Our souls were knit together; we were so drawn to 
each other, that we seemed to fuse iiito one, — it is a 
holiday when we meet; the grasp of his hand does 
me good ^-like a medicine." I number him and his 
wife among my dearest and best loved friends; our 
friendship strengthens as we grow older; we have 
been together in dark days, and sunny days, but 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 387 

neither clouds nor sunshine affect the stability of our 
love for each other. 

I commenced work on November 8th, in Boston, 
after a long vacation, and continued till December 
3d, when I returned home to attend the funeral of 
William Lincoln, at Oakham. He died December 1, 
1856, after a short illness, and left Sarah a widow, but 
seven months from her marriage. His was a lovely 
character, and the sorrow for his death was universal 
in the town where he had lived. The bearers at his 
funeral were some young men he had helped to the 
Saviour; and the tears that dropped into his open 
grave were genuine testimonials of the deep grief of 
the many he left to mourn over the early departure 
of one so useful and so dearly beloved. I left home 
for Chicago immediately after the funeral, reaching 
that city on Wednesday, December 10th. I delivered 
six lectures there, making excursions to places in the 
vicinity, and concluded the year 1856 in Chicago. I 
remained in Illinois till February 23d, when I left for 
Indianapolis, on my way to Cincinnati, where we were 
entertained by my old friend, E. M, Gregory, Esq., 
now Gen„ Gregory. I delivered six lectures there, 
and passing through Columbus, reached home on 
Wednesday, March 11th. On Monday the 23d, I 
wrote the letter to George C. Campbell, of London, 
afterwards called the ^' dead letter," and which was 
the cause of a most painful controversy, the history 
of which will be given in a future page. 

On April 16th, I commenced my last trip before 
leaving for England, at Boston, and continued work, 
giving farewell addresses, in New York and Pennsyl- 
vania principally, reaching Hillside on Wednesday, 



388 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHJ^ B. GOUGH. 

the 24th, to prepare for a voyage, and a three years' 
absence from home. On Jujy 2d, a farewell pic- 
nic was given in a grove near my residence, w^here 
neighbors and friends came to bid us "good-bye," 
and to offer their best wishes for our success while 
absent. 

I received from friends in Philadelphia, a proposi- 
tion for a farewell meeting to be held in that city, 
previous to my departure. The Academy of Music 
was engaged, and Thursday, May 21st, was the time 
appointed. I cannot pass this by, without an expres- 
sion of gratitude to them, for such a magnificent tes- 
timonial of good-will, confidence, and esteem. The 
"Bulletin" termed it "a splendid farewell testimonial" 
and stated that "it was one of the most brilliant that 
was ever given in Philadelphia to any man. There 
were probably thirty-five hundred individuals in the 
audience, and it was such an audience as any orator 
might feel it an honor to address. The scene from 
the stage was magnificent. The entrances were 
thronged, and hundreds stood around the doors, bal- 
ancing in their minds the chances of getting either 
a seat or a sight, if they went in." The "Evening 
Journal" said: "Long before the hour to commence 
had arrived, that immense edifice was densely filled 
with an intelligent and appreciative audience, and 
thousands were unable to obtain admission. The 
view from the stage was one of unusual splendor, 
presenting, as it were, a living amphitheater of human 
faces, all beaming with the glad smile of joyful atn- 
ticipation." All the city papers gave very favorable 
notices. George H. Stuart, Esq., presided, and Rev. 
John Chambers offered prayer. At the close, a very 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN" B. GOUGH. 389 

kind resolution, expressive of their hearty good-will, 
was offered. It was to me, a scene of unusual in- 
terest, and very impressive and encouraging. 

From New Haven, I received the following invita- 
tion : 

Dear Sir, — Learning that you are about to leave this country, for two 
or three years of labor in the cause of temperance in Great Britain, 
we have a great desire to hear again that voice which has so often 
stirred our souls in sympathy with the cause in which you are engaged, 
and also to embrace an opportunity of returning to you our sincere 
thanks for the great service you have rendered us in days that are past, 
and at the same time to bid you God speed in the work before you. 
Please accept our invitation to address your numerous friends in this 
city, and name to us the earliest evening that may suit your conven- 
ience. . 

The above was signed by Leonard Bacon, D. D., 
Ex-Gov. Dutton, Rev. Dr. Cleaveland, Moses L. Scud- 
der, and twenty-two other gentlemen in the highest 
social position. The meeting was held in the North 
Church on Tuesday evening, June 23d. Ex-Gov. 
Dutton presided ; the College choir furnished music 
for the occasion. I was greatly helped and strength- 
ened by these testimonials, and by the thoughtful 
kindness that prompted them on the eve of my de- 
parture. 

On Thursday, July 9 th, I gave a fire well address 
at Worcester, and on Tuesday the 14th proceeded to 
take the ship Niagara for Liverpool. Mrs. Knox and 
her daughter, her sister Mary Booth, and Rev. George 
Gould accompanied us, intending to remain with us — 
Mr. Gould proposing to travel in Europe for his health. 
Quite a number of friends were with us the next morn- 
ing, and parted from us at the ship's side. The gun 
fired, the paddles moved, and we Avere away. Had I 



390 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

known all that was awaiting me on the other side, I 
think my heart would have failed me -, and it is well 
we know not what is before ns, so that, by faith we 
may live day by day, realizing the promises — "As thy 
day is, so shall thy strength be;" and^ "My grace is 
sufficient for thee." 



CHAPTER XXVII. 

Eeasons for Inserting the Trial — The "Dead Letter" — State of Feel- 
ing regarding it — Comments of the Press — Arrival in England — 
Queen Street Hall — Continued Attacks. 

I WOULD fain bury in oblivion the record of the 
controversy that grew out of my letter written in 
March, but it would not be just to myself, and I know 
I should lay myself open to the charge (which would 
most assuredly be made) of keeping back, or cover- 
ing up the proceedings which were so painful to me 
and to others, and therefore I have decided to give a 
clear, and truthful narrative of the whole matter, 
from the beginning to the end, so far as I was con- 
cerned ; though the end is not yet, in the estranged 
friendships and the bitter feeling that exist in many 
minds. 

I shall insert nothing but what is necessary to a 
clear understanding of the true history of the case^ 
Man}^ of my friends even, have but a vague idea of 
the transactions growing out of the misunderstand- 
ing; whether wilful or not, on the part of others, those 
who read must judge. I judge no man, but simply' 
state facts, for which I have in my possession docu- 
ments that cannot be gainsayed. 

It will be necessary to introduce names, as the nar- 
rative cannot be made so clear by withholding them; 
and though I have no desire to give ollbnse, justice 



392 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGII. 

to myself demands that I shall omit nothing that may 
help to a clear miderstanding of the whole history. 

On March 28th, as I have stated, I wrote to G. C. 
Campbell, an intimate friend of mine, a letter, in 
which, after speaking of some personal matters, I 
said: 

The cause in this country is in a depressed state; the Maine Law is 
a dead letter everywhere, — more liquor sold than I ever knew before, 
in Massachusetts, — and in other States it is about as bad. Were it not 
that I feel desirous of laboring with you again, I should be inclined to 
ask for the loan of another year to labor here. I never had so many 
and so earnest applications for labor, and the field is truly ready, — not 
for the sickle, but for steady, persevering tillage; but we shall leave 
our dear home in July, with the expectation of laboring with you, as 
far as health and strength will permit, for the next three years 

I see Neal Dow is to be in England. I am glad. You will all 
like him; he is a noble man — a faithful worker. He can tell better 
than any other man, the state of the Maine Law movement here, and 
the cause of the universal failure of the law to produce the desired 
results. 

I also wrote a letter to Scotland, bespeaking for the 
anthor of the Maine Law a hearty welcome, and cordial 
cooperation. The " dead letter," as it was termed, was 
written to a friend, with no intention that it shonld 
be published. In it I gave some reasons for the 
state of things here, and expressly said that the polit- 
ical combinations affecting us, would not be a hind- 
rance to them, I knew. The peoj)le of England w^ere 
aware that the Maine Law was not on the statute book 
of the State of Maine, having been repealed, and a 
license law substituted, much to my regret ; yet I was 
convinced that the law would be reenacted, and prob- 
ably made even more stringent, by the next Legisla- 
ture. I had, from the beginning, advocated a pro- 
hibitory law. I was engaged expressly in Connec- 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF J0H:N' B. GOUGH. 393 

ticut for that purpose, previous to their election, and 
I worked faithfully to that end, — the enactment of 
the law. 

I do not profess to be able to grasp the legal and 
political question with the facility that many men 
possess. I suppose I lack the logical power; at least 
it is said that I do — and if God has not seen fit to 
bestow on me this faculty, I must try to use the pow- 
ers He has given me, and do the best I can. This I 
have tried conscientiously to do. 

In conversation with a supposed friend, I said in 
reference to Mr. Dow's visit to England: "I am sorry 
he is going this year, for I earnestly desire that his 
work there may be successful, and the English critics 
who are opposed to the law, will say he has come to 
represent a failure; for the law is not noAV on the 
statute books of his own State. If he would wait 
till it shall be re-enacted with more stringent provis- 
ions, as it is sure to be, then, on the w^ave of a glori- 
ous success, his mission there will be doublv effective 
in aiding the friends toward the establishment of a 
law for Great Britain." This w^as the only time I 
used any word intimating that the law was a failure^ 
and by a little twisting it was made to tell against 
me. I had used the expression, ^'faihu'e of the law 
to produce desired results." When I wrote the ''dead 
letter" I had been making observations and inquiries, 
and held in my possession official documents Irom as- 
sociations, deploring the depressed state of the tem- 
perance cause generally, — partly, as I believe, owhig 
to the neglect of the pureh' moral means that had 
been empk)yed for so many years with groat success. 
There were certainly fewer temperance mootings — 



394 AUTOBIOGEAPHT OF J0H:N" B. GOUGH. 

the pledge was very mucli discarded — and the tem- 
perance sentiment was not so vigorous as formerly. 

But after all, whether the letter was published or 
not, the statement was a matter purely of opinion, 
and could be met by counter- evidence. I had no 
wish to maintain the assertion as a positive fact, in 
the face of contrary evidence. It was my opinion, 
expressed not without what I considered good evi- 
dence of its truth. I thought nothing more of the 
letter. I wrote to Mr. Dow, expressing an earnest 
desire to see him before he left — to which he replied 
very cordially and kindly. The '' Weekly Eecord," 
jDublished in London — as I then supposed, the organ 
of the League — came to me with the extracts from my 
letter published, and the notice that " The following 
extracts from a letter received by Gr. C. Camj^bell 
from Mr. Gough, will be read with pleasure by all 
our readers." When my wife showed me the article, 
I said : " I am sorry they published that ; I can see 
now how it may make trouble ; but I hope it will 
not." This was the first dawn of an idea in my 
mind, that anything unpleasant could grow out of 
that letter. It produced a state of feeling towards 
me personally, that was surprising and unexpected. 
I would gladly have aided any investigation tending 
to show that I had mistaken, or even exaggerated in 
any point ; but the course pursued by those who felt 
themselves aggrieved, completely j)revented my doing 
anything but collect evidence that I was not alone in 
my opinions of the state of the cause. 

"The Alliance Weekly News," the organ of the 
prohibitionists in Great Britain, in the first article 
stated : " This is not the first fit of unreasonable depres- 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 395 

sion with wliicli Mr. Gough has been affected — his 
temperament unfortunately allows him at times to 
take gloomy views of affairs ;" and that, ^^the state- 
ment of Mr. Gough is not worthy of notice." 

The secretary of the Alliance, in a letter to the 
"Christian News," says: "The most active and ad- 
vanced supporters of the Maine Law, in this country 
and America, were never fully convinced that Mr. 
Gough was a genuine and faithful adherent of the 
principle and policy of prohibition." And again: 
"No one — not even Mr. Gough — really believes the 
statement he has made, for fortunately it is so mon- 
strously absurd, that no one can believe it, even when 
they try to make others sw^allow the camel. The facts 
of the case have been too extensively published, and 
the evidence proving the enforcement, and the suc- 
cess of the law, is so accessible to all intelligent -pei- 
sons who do not shut their eyes and ears — that the 
fable sent over by Mr. Gough must soon be fully ex- 
posed and laughed to scorn." 

And in a letter to the Glasgow " Commonwealth^" 
the same writer says: ^^'Mr. Gough is engaged by 
these parties [the League] to visit England and Scot- 
land for three years, and in writing to his j^atrons, he 
perhaps sympathized too much with them in the dif- 
ficulty and doubt they were subject to in regard to 
the peculiar phase of the temperance movement now 
being actually brought out by the prohibitionists of 
England." And again: "Mr. Gouglfs assertions, on 
the very flice of them, are destitute of credible char- 
acteristics — are sweeping and reckless exaggerations." 
And then remarks very charitably: "AH his friends 
know that he is subject to fits of severe mental de- 
25 



396 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

pression — in short, he has not so fully recovered from 
the effects of stimulants, as to escape from the pecu- 
liar malady commonly called the 'blues.'" The last 
sentence is in italics. 

My friends replied to some of these articles, the 
controversy ran high, and bitter feeling was mani- 
fested. The Secretary of the Alliance said in a letter 
to the "Commonwealth," "In matters of ordinary 
and reliable character, involving precision of state- 
ment and accuracy of information, Mr. Go ugh must 
not be taken as an authority ; such things are out of 
his line altogether." 

The " Christian News," which became for three years 
the vehicle of abuse so vile that no other paper would 
publish it, contained the following — after copying a 
resolution passed at my farewell meeting in Philadel- 
phia : " Six thousand pounds for three years, and drink- 
ing nothing but water ! — This is temperance extrava- 
gance surely. No wonder Mr. Gough can prepare 
^ofty flights of eloquence' for such payments. He 
evidently knows the gauge of John Bull, and it is not 
the first time he has ^creeshed his loofs with Mr. 
Sawney.' He will return, laughing in his sleeve, to 
the land of Yankee Doodle, and he may there revel 
about the Maine Law as he pleases, since he has re- 
covered his goodiamus," &c. This, from a paper that 
had been almost fulsome in its eulogies on me during 
my first visit, and now changed by my expression of 
opinion. 

Dr. Lees, in introducing Mr. Dow to an audience, as 
quoted from the "Nottingham Review," said: "The 
statement had no authority and could have no au- 
thority, for, at the time of writing, — and he need not 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 397 

say by whom it was written, — (Mr. Goiighj) it must 
have been written by an individual who, at the time 
of writing, did not understand what he was saying." 
And: "There was not the slightest ground for the 
fallacy, the calumny, the blundering assertion, that 
the principle of prohibition had failed. But what 
would have been the consequence if the Duke of 
Wellington, when Messina pressed him back upon the 
lines of Torres Yedras, had given up the campaign ? 
Or suppose some traitor had then written home from 
the camp, that the war was a failure — what would the 
Duke have done to that traitor, etc?" 

The papers containing these, and many more as- 
sertions and attacks of like character, reached me 
here. On receiving them, I set to work to ascertain, 
as fairly and truly as I could, the exact state of affairs 
in reference to the working of the law. I sent over 
eight hundred circulars to the most prominent men 
of the movement, — I mean the working men, — and 
received more than seven hundred replies, all, or 
nearly all, confirming me in my expressed opinion, 
that "the cause was in a depressed state," and that 
the Maine Law was "failing to produce the desired 
results." 

To be sure, the liquor traffic was checked in some 
degree by it ; but not more at the time of writing, 
than was effected by the laws we had, before the in- 
troduction of the so-called Maine Law. For years 
there were no licenses granted in any county in Mas- 
sachusetts excepting one. 

The " Springfield Republican" of July, 1857, in' an 
article on "The Temperance Question," says: **We 
have got the Maine Liquor Law here in Springfield, 



398 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

and with it unrestricted dram-selling." The same 
paper of the date July 7, in an article headed "In- 
temperance in Springfield," says: "We do not say 
that all the people of Springfield were drunk on the 
Fourth, but we do say that the people of Springfield 
must be held responsible for all the drunkenness that 
occurred here last Saturday. It was the testimony 
of those who were around, that they had never seen 
a day in the town on which more liquor was con- 
sumed. Men under the influence of liquor could be 
seen almost everywhere. The drunkard crop is get- 
ting rather large for a town of this size." 

I found many articles in our papers containing 
statements in reference to the non-enforcement of the 
law, and I considered that the testimony I had col- 
lected did not warrant me in the declaration that I 
had either mistaken or overstated the facts in my 
letter or would apologize for the course I had taken. 

I left home with a large number of documents, in- 
tending to use them on my arrival in England, to 
show that there were good men and true in this coun- 
try who agreed with me in my expressed opinion. 

On our arrival at Liverpool on Sunday, July 26th, 
we were met by a large party of friends, and took 
lodgings at Brown's Hotel. The next day a meeting 
was held in the Queen Street Hall, Dr. Eden presiding, 
at which addresses were presented to me by the " Na- 
tional Temperance League," " Scottish Temperance 
League," and "Liverpool League." To these I re- 
plied, and then in a speech of nearly three hours de- 
fined my position; told them I never said the Law 
was a failure — that if enforced it would shut up every 
liquor shop in the land — that the letter was written 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 399 

hastily, and not intended for publication — that on re- 
ceiving the articles condemning my statement as 
false, I endeavored to ascertain as far as I could the 
state of the cause at the time I wrote the letter, and 
presented to them the documents I had received, in 
answer to the circular which I had sent to prominent 
men in the movement, with a resolution passed by 
the Massachusetts " State Temperance Society." I 
also protested against the vituperation and abuse I 
had received for an expression of opinion, and that 
after a fair and thorough investigation, I could not 
stultify myself by stating that I did not know what I 
was about when I wrote, and that the only modifica- 
tion I could make was to insert the word "generally" 
— the Maine Law is generally a dead letter every- 
where — that I only alluded to the state of the cause 
at the time when I wrote the letter, not at any time 
past, before, or since. After some discussion, a reso- 
lution was passed expressing satisfaction with my 
statement, and carried with only two dissenting votes. 

I left this meeting with an earnest hope that I 
should be permitted, without annoyance, to continue 
my work, but I soon received letters, — some of them 
insolently calling for replies to questions, and demand- 
ing that I should stultify myself by an admission that 
my statement was false. I received a letter from Dr. 
F. E. Lees, asking if I had accused him of calumniat- 
ing me in his introduction of Neal Dow, in my speech 
at Liverpool; I replied, that I had not used his name 
— this he heralded as an apology from me. 

On Tuesday morning we left Liverpool for London, 
and at once proceeded to our old quarters, 32 Norfolk 
Street, Strand, — and as I do not doom it desirable to 



400 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

interrupt the history of the conflict growing out of 
the "dead letter/' I shall follow it to its close at the 
Court of Exchequer, in London, in 1858. 

Continued attacks were made on me, in the "Chris- 
tian News," the organ of the Alliance for Scotland, 
and the ^^ Alliance Weekly News," its organ for Eng- 
land. While lecturing at Cupar Fife in Scotland, I 
received a communication from Wm. Wilson of Sher- 
wood Hall, stating that he had received a letter from 
a person whose name he withheld, charging me with 
committing very serious offenses. A long correspond- 
ence ensued, during which I demanded the author's 
name, but did not obtain it until some time after, and 
then found it was Dr. Lees. 

An article had appeared in the "Edinburgh News" 
reflecting severely on Mr. Peter Sinclair, who was 
then in this country, and though I had no reason to 
love Mr. Sinclair, for the part he had taken against 
tne here, yet I had no agency whatever in the pro- 
duction of that article, and addressed, I believe, but 
two of the papers containing it, to personal friends at 
home. That issue of the paper also contained a very 
kind and generous notice of my meetings in Edin- 
burgh, which I was desirous my friends should see. 
Mrs. Gough did not direct one of them. Dr. Lees as- 
sumed, with no reason, that I had, and made that the 
ostensible cause for attacking me. The report of the 
trial will give the main charges made by him against 
me ; they were so direct and outrageous, that, after 
long and deliberate consultation with friends, it was 
deemed advisable that legal proceedings should be in- 
stituted against him. The case was placed in the 
hands of Mr. William Shaen of London, as solicitor. 



AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 401 

The proceedings commenced, and in addition to my 
heavy work, I was involved in the unpleasant and 
annoying complications of a suit at law, for libel. 

I have before me the letters and circulars sent out 
by Lees, and those who helped him, and at this dis- 
tance of time, they cause my cheek to burn, and my 
nerves to tingle. Letters were sent to persons who 
entertained me, asking if they discovered anything 
suspicious in my demeanor, — whether anything was 
found in my room that could be used against me ; 
also inquiring if they discovered, or suspected that I 
took anything improperly; in fact, I was placed un- 
der surveillance, and watched narrowly. Some per- 
sons whom I knew well, were busy on this side of 
the water, and everything that had been published 
against me here, was republished there. The occur- 
rences of 1845 were opened up again, and every 
statement against me put into pamphlet form, and 
circulated; they were even given to my audiences as 
they entered the lecture room. A pamphlet written 
by a Mr. Snelling of Boston, whom I had helped 
when in trouble, entitled "Goughiana" — a thing so 
vile, that as it dropped from his pen, it fell dead from 
its own corruption — a thing that no respectable paper 
alluded to here — was sent over to England, and the 
galvanized corpse of the most abominable slander 
ever perpetrated against any human being, was pa- 
raded in pamphlet form. A London paper contained 
the followino;: "'Gouorhiana.' A scurrilous and libel- 
lous pamphlet bearing the above title, purport hig to 
have been printed in America, has been sent to a 
number of influential teetotalers, through the post 
w^ithin the last fortnight, in envelopes addressed by 



402 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

Dr. F. E. Lees. It has evidently been sent to the 
newspapers, as we see the following in an editorial 
notice in the ^Newcastle Guardian/ — ^Goughiana is 
a libelous production evidently prompted by malice 
and intended to cause pain and dissension.'" 

The "poor Yankee" must be destroyed. My solic- 
itor endeavored, in order to bring the matter out on 
its own merits, and to clear it of any appearance of 
an action for damages, to obtain criminal information 
against Dr. Lees, in which we failed. Lord Campbell 
said: "I have no doubt that Mr. Gough is a respect- 
able gentleman, and a sincere apostle of temperance, 
and that he sets a good example of the precepts that 
he holds out, but I do not think this is a case in which 
we ought to interfere by a criminal information." This 
rejoiced my opponents greatly, and as we were de- 
termined to push the matter, to proof, or retraction, 
we concluded that the case should be tried in the 
Court of Exchequer. Then while Lees was circulat- 
ing everything he could lay hold of, — old slanders, 
statements proved to be false, the opposing parties 
proposed arbitration, — all my friends decided that 
while these slanderous statements were circulated so 
freely, there could be no successful arbitration, — that 
his accusations must be withdrawn, or proved before 
a jury, as he challenged me to the trial. As I have 
occupied more space than I intended, I will pass on 
to the trial. I have before me eighty-six letters writ- 
ten in reference to the controversy. "Gough versus 
Lees" heading article after article in the newspapers. 
My friends in America sent a document in my favor, 
which was published ; it was treated with contempt, 
I and those who signed it styled the "clerical dead let- 



AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHI^ B. GOUGH. 403 

ter defenders." Then one of the most generous testi- 
monials ever written was sent to me signed by ^Ye 
hundred of the best men in the country — governors, 
presidents of colleges, members of Congress/ minis- 
ters of the gospel, headed by the venerable Dr. Ly- 
man Beecher, and followed by Henry Ward Beecher, 
and all his brothers but one — Mr. Delavan — editors 
of newspapers, and other gentlemen of the highest 
respectability; but nothing could stop the steady tide 
of abuse; papers were started for the purpose, and 
lecturers took the field to "expose me." The "Chris- 
tian News" especially made itself prominent in pub- 
lishing everything that was slanderous. A defense 
fund for Dr. Lees was started, and a proposal made 
to raise one thousand pounds for him, and he being 
backed up by a powerful organization, on his own 
ground, and among his own friends, what was the 
"Yankee" to do? 

True, I had hosts of friends, and no respectable pa- 
per, except the temperance papers in the interests of 
the Alliance, published aught against me. It was a 
terrible ordeal ; they intended that I should suffer, 
and I did ; and, if it is any consolation for them to 
know that they caused me and mine such pain as I 
would not inflict on the meanest of Grod's creatures, I 
give them the information here. Still, through all 
this I did not miss an appointment, but kept steadily 
at work till the trial came on. In the meantime, 
an application had been made on behalf of Lees, at 
Judges' Chambers, before Baron Martin, to show cause 
why a commission should not issue for the examina- 
tion of witnesses in Scotland, and elsewhere in Great 
Britain, in behalf of the defendant upon interrogato- 



404 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOH]S' B. GOUGH. 

ries ; and why, in the meantime, and until the return 
of the commission, all further proceedings should not 
be stayed. Baron Martin had no difficulty in refusing 
the application. He had never heard of any such at- 
tempt being made to obtain a roving commission to 
collect evidence in support of a libel. The defendant 
ought to have provided himself with evidence before 
he libelled the plaintiff. Four more days were given 
to plead. Afterwards the defendant made his fourth 
application to the court for more time, which was 
granted. 



CHAPTER XXVin. 



Trial in the Libel Case — Court of Exchequer — " Gough versus Lees.* 

THE TRIAL. 

CouET OP Exchequer, Westminster, Monday, June 21, 1858. 
(Before Baron Martin and a Special Jury.) 



JOHN BARTHOLOMEW GOUGH, 

Plaintiff'. 

plaintiff's counsel. 

Edwin James, Q. C. 
James P. Wilde, A. C. 
J. R. Quain, LL.B. 

plaintiff's attorneys. 
Messrs. Shaen and Roscoe. 



FREDERICK RICH. LEES, 

Ph. D., of Gessin, Defendant. 

defendant's counsel. 

K. Macaulay, Q. C. 
T. W. Phipson. 
W. Field. 

defendant's attorneys. 

Messrs. Hilleard, Dale and 
Stretton, for Mr. James 
Stubbin, Birmingham. 

Mr. Quain having opened the pleadings, Mr. Edwin 

James said : 

May it please your lordship, gentlemen of the jury, as counsel for 
the plaintiff I shall have to bespeak your very serious attention to the 
details of this case ; because, although there may be, upon the first 
blush of it, something which probably may bo calculated to excite a 
smile, the matter which is before you for your decision is of vital ira- 
portance to the character, and I may say to the very existence of Mr. 
Gough. Gentlemen, Mr. John Barthoknnew Gough is a gentleman 
who has acquired, I think I may say, a world-wide reputation as a lec- 
turer in a very great movement, which has attracted very groat atten- 
tion in America and in England, — a movement called the " Temperance 
League," — and ho complains of libels written against him by the de- 
fendant, which go, as you will learn by-and-byo, wlion the libels aro 
read, to impute to him a series of misconduct, which, perhaps, when 



406 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

applied to another person, might almost have been* passed as beneath 
notice and treated with contempt; but when du'ected by the defend- 
ant against the character of Mr, Gough, for the express purpose, as I 
shall show you, of utterly injuring and destroying him, becomes a mat- 
ter in which, I am bound to assert, your attention will be kindly be- 
stowed on his behalf, his character being involved in the inquiry; and 
that attention, I am bound to say, will not be ill-paid or ill-bestowed. 

Grentlemen, it is necessary, in order to make the series of most ma- 
lignant libels, which I shall show you were written by the defendant, 
intelligible to you, that I should state to you, and it shall be shortly, 
an outline of the case, which will convince you of the motive which the 
defendant had in directing those libels against Mr. Gough, Gentle- 
men, ]Mr. Gough, the plaintiff, is the son, I believe, of a common sol- 
dier, who was in the English army, and was born at Sandgate, in Kent. 
His mother was a woman of very superior character, and a highly in- 
telligent person, and bestowed the best education she could on her son. 
Mr. Gough was sent very early in life to America, and I believe, in 
New York, for many years, pursued the business of a book-binder. 
He improved himself, and is a person, as you will see by-and-bye, and 
probably you know, of very considerable self-education, I may say he 
is a person of most extraordinary eloquence. T do not know whether 
I am addressing any gentlemen who have heard those lectures which 
he has delivered ; but there cannot be any question, that they are the 
efforts of a most eloquent man, who has devoted himself sincerely and 
truthfully to the cause of temperance which he has espoused. He be- 
came addicted early in life to habits of intemperance; but in 1842, 
when in America, he was reclaimed from those habits, and at that date he 
signed a pledge, and formed a habit of attending temperance meetings ; 
because I believe the temperance movement originated and became 
widely extended in America before it reached England, where, however 
people may smile at it, it has produced among the working classes, and 
the lower orders of the country, the most signal advantages. It 
spread, and assumed a celebrity and position in America, which were 
afterwards communicated to England, where the results of it, I repeat, 
have been most advantageous, more especially to the working classes. 
He commenced lecturing and attending the meetings of these societies^ 
and his lectures justly met with so much success in America that he 
devoted the whole object of his life to his lectures on this temperance 
question. In the year 1853, he was brought to England, and during 
the years 1853, 1854, and 1855, he was lecturing in England, having 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 407 

been engaged at that time by the Temperance Leagne, — an association 
of highly respectable gentlemen, some of whose names, I dare say, 
when we hear them, will be known to all of us — to lecture in this 
country. 

Now, gentlemen, in order to make this matter intelligible to you, I 
must explain to you that in America a law, which is very well known 
here now, by the name of the Maine Liquor Law, was originally passed 
by the State of Maine, in America. That law, you are aware, was a 
law for the entire suppression and absolute prohibition of traffic in in- 
toxicating drinks, was adopted by seven of the United States in America, 
first led by the State of Maine, from which it takes its name. The 
proposal of that principle reached England, and a society was formed, 
adopting and advocating the principle of total suppression by legal en- 
actment of the traffic in intoxicating drinks, which called itself, in Eng- 
land and Scotland, the United Kingdom Alliance. Those in whose 
behalf Mr. Gough was lecturing — the London, now the National Tem- 
perance League — did not go so far as advocating a total prohibition of 
the traffic by any legislative enactment ; they left it, therefore, to the 
moral persuasion of the people, improving them by intelligence and by 
education; and they took the view that, as it has been very truly said, 
you cannot succeed in making people religious by act of Parliament, 
neither can you probably succeed in making men temperate by act of 
Parliament. These two parties, therefore, were constituted. This is 
essential to an understandino; of the libels which Dr. Lees has thou2;ht 
proper to direct against Mr. Gough; because they originated, as you 
will see, without the slightest cause of offense given on Mr. Gough's 
part to Dr. Lees. 

Dr. Lees is also a lecturer, and he became a very strong supporter 
of the United Kingdom Alliance, or the total prohibitionists, as against 
Mr. Gough and the society, and the interest he advocates, for inculcat- 
ing by moral persuasion upon the people, and, as I said before, by 
educating them and appealing to their sense of proper feeling, the 
habits of temperance, as against intoxication, in the lower orders. 

These two bodies, therefore existed ; Dr. Lees became a lecturer of 
the prohibitionists, or the United Kingdom Alliance; Mr. Gougli re- 
mained earning, as you will hear, a very ample income, for I believe 
you will hear by-and-bye, that he procured enormous funds by his lec- 
tures, — which may be smiled at, but if any person present were to 
hear them, they would be very much cditiod, — those lectures being of 
the highest degree of elocpence, at all events of platform eloquence. 



408 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

Mr. Gough then continued lecturing on behalf of the National Tem- 
perance League ; Dr. Lees adopting the principle of the prohibitionists, 
or the advocacy of the Maine Liquor Law in this country. Mr. Gough 
lectured in England, — I think he lectured at Exeter Hall some sixty or 
seventy times, — and it appeared that some gentleman, called the Hon. 
Neal Dow, a native of America, was about to visit England in 1857, 
and that it was some letter which Mr. Gough wrote, a paragraph of 
which appeared in the Times newspaper, in reference to his visit, as far 
as we can by any possibility trace, that was the cause and the origin of 
this attack by Dr. Lees upon him. 

Mr. Neal Dow had been the originator, or the author, in America of 
the Maine Liquor Law, and Mr. Gough was in America at the time the 
visit to England of Mr. Neal Dow was contemplated ; and this letter 
was written from America by Mr. Gough to a Mr. Campbell. Mr. 
Gough is writing from America, where he is lecturing, and he is mak- 
ing a remark, most innocently and most properly, upon the effect of the 
Maine Liquor Law in America to a friend of his. 

Here Mr. James read the '^ dead letter/' and re- 
sumed : 

Now that was a letter — without containing an attack upon any person, 
without saying anything in the least degree derogatory of the body of 
gentleman who were advocating the Maine Liquor Law here — convey- 
ing a mere expression of opinion as to what Mr. Gough had found in 
America to be the state of the law 

That, I believe, is the origin of this attack ; and I challenge my 
friend, by-and-bye, to prove any act or statement of Mr. Gough that will 
account in the least degree for these libels which Dr. Lees sat down 
and penned against him, and which you may imagine have been of the 
most serious consequence, when I tell you that Mr. Gough's lectures 
produced to him nearly two thousand pounds a year; that he has real- 
ized enormous funds for the societies; and that he is a most popular 
lecturer, received, as I will show you, in various districts of England 
by gentlemen of the highest position. 

Dr. Lees is a gentleman who resides, I believe, at Meanwood, near 
Leeds; he is a very able controversialist, and has the pen, certainly, 
of a ready writer ; and he sat down and addressed the libels which I 
will now read to you, to Mr. Wilson, a gentleman of very large fortune, 
residing near Nottingham, who has espoused the temperance cause, and 
done, I believe, vast good in the town of Nottingham and the neighbor- 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHiT B. GOUGH. 409 

hood where he resides, by inculcating in the minds of the lower orders 
habits of temperance and abstinence from intoxication. 

Gentlemen, I will read to you these letters which Dr. Lees thouo-ht 
proper to write, and which form the libels that are complained of in this 
declaration, and explain them as I go on. They are four. The first let- 
ter is dated " Christmas, 1857." I will hand to my lord presently, which 
may assist my lord, underscored in red ink, that portion of the libels 
which they justify. They have left a very large portion, as you will see 
byand-bye, utterly unjustified, and Dr. Lees must, in the mouth of his 
counsel, admit that he is utterly unable to justify them, and that he has 
not a shadow of foundation for the libels that are charged against him. 

" A happy new year to you all at Sherwood. I have just returned 
from Scotland, where I have met with several persons who can speak to 
a fact of which I was previously cognizant, that your friend St. Bar- 
tholomew" 

It is a slighting way of speaking of Mr. Gough ; his name is Bar- 
tholomew, and Dr. Lees calls him — of course in a slighting, ofiensive 
way — "St. Bartholomew." 

"Your friend, St. Bartholomew, has often been seen narcotically and 
helplessly intoxicated. I should have announced that fact before, of 
which I have distinct proof, but out of fear of injuring the cause, and 
out of pity for the saint himself, I forbore, on receipt of his apology. 
But he has been sinning worse than before, and his correspondence with 
Mr. Dexter, whom I have already exposed across the water, and shall 
still further, appears in the monstrous lies against the Alliance in a 
leading article of a Boston paper, now before me, (I post you extracts). 
His demoniac persecution of Sinclair is astounding — I will not say not 
Christian, but perfectly infernal. A friend at Edinburgh, who was 
present, told me and Pope all about it, and Mrs, Gough sent the pa- 
pers ! This is conduct more like fiends than men, and if those people 
will fight with such unholy weapons, they cannot hope that we will re- 
main forever silent. I will not, and if Mr. Dexter is not instructed to 
recall his article and apologize for it, and to make the aincfide to poor 
Sinclair, my next letter to the States shall contain all the information I 
possess anent St, Bartholomew himself, whom I believe to bo " 

This is not justified, nor any part of it 

'* as rank a hypocrite and as wicked a man as breathes in the Queen's 
dominions — infinitely less genuine than Sinclair himself. If you have 



410 AUTOBIOGKAPHT OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

any influence with these people you will consider whether you ought to 
use it ; but I assure you that if the author of the new mischief does 
not supply me speedily with a contradiction of his friend Dexter's state- 
ment, and of regret concerning Sinclair (for Mr. Hope and others char- 
acterize his libel as monstrous and unwarranted by facts), I will not al- 
low the man and his family to be sacrificed by my silence to the de- 
vices of a wicked vengeance, and therefore give you a fair warning. I 
hope you will feel as much interested in the claims of justice (as re- 
gards the Alliance and Sinclair) as you felt anxiety about your protege. 

Yours truly, F. E. Lees." 

In that there is not, as I will show you, a syllable of truth, — not a 
syllable. Mr. Gough will be called as a witness; he had nothing what- 
ever to do with any attacks, and more than that, I believe you will be 
satisfied that Dr. Lees well knew this when he sat down and penned 
these libels. 

'* P. S. I do not want to trouble you with any correspondence, or 
any one else. My ultimatum is simply this from the guilty party:—- 

"1. A simple repudiation of Dexter's portrait and proceedings of 
the Alliance, as inaccurate. 

"2. An expression of pleasure at learning that parties authorized to 
know, regard the charges against Mr. Sinclair as unwarranted. 

"If I have these under his hand within a week, disclosure will not 
take place without further provocation ; if not, it will, for justice shall 
be done, even if the temperance heavens fall." 

He quotes, as you know, "Fiat justitia ruat caelum," applied, as Dr. 
Lees applies it, to the temperance question. 

Gentlemen, you will see that it is a threat of exposure, — a statement 
that Dr. Lees has something to expose to the public against the char- 
acter of Mr. Gough. Here is a reference to a matter in which really 
Mr. Gough had no interest, had not taken part, had made no attack ; 
but Dr. Lees chooses, by a threat to an intimate friend of his, Mr. 
Wilson, whose acquaintance was of value, of course, as a gentleman of 
position to Mr. Gough, *' If I have under his hand within a week, the 
disclosure shall not take place without further provocation." 

This is not pretended to be, because it could not be for the benefit of 
any society here, but a threat that if Mr. Gough did not do a thing 
which he could not do, — for he had nothing whatever to do with it, — 
further disclosures would take place. 

Mr. Lees is here, and will show by his examination that there is not 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHIST B. GOUGH. 411 

a shadow or pretense of a foundation for those disclosures. This is the 
first letter Mr. Lees thought proper to indite to Mr. Wilson. The next 
letter is dated, — 

"Meanwood, January 3, 1858. 

" 3Iy dear Mr. Wilson^ — The whole affair about Dexter, who is 
Gough's bosom friend, you will learn from a perusal of the enclosed 
printed letter, which has been sent across the water, in reply to an 
application as to the truth of Dexter's leader from the ' Massachusetts 
State Temperance Society.' 

" This letter will (provisionally) be followed by another anent the 
personal matter regarding St. Bartholomew. Of course we have noth- 
ing to do with Mr. Dexter, who is merely the tool of Mr. Gough, — the 
* leader ' being that person's letter reflected. Hence, I want Mr. 
Gough's repudiation of his friend's 'portrait' of the Alliance, simply to 
put the finishing stroke to the reputation, and I propose this as the 
condition of withholding the portrait of St. Bartholomew." 

There is another threat — " from the press." 

There is a threat which Dr. Lees held out, that he was in possession 
of certain information, and a statement that he will withdraw that from 
the press on condition of Mr. Gough undoing that which he had really 
not done at all; for you will hear by-and-bye that he was really no 
party whatever to the matter respecting which the suggestion has been 
made. 

*'I had fancied that you were still in active correspondence with Mr. 
Gough, hence I wrote you so that you might give your friends ' fair 
warning,' and allow them an opportunity of averting ray disclosures. 
You can understand my feelings, when, for many motives I held my 
tongue for above a year ; and God knows how hard I feel it to be com- 
pelled to speak out now, if I must indeed. But certainly I cannot 
(out of regard to my own or other people's feelings) allow this course 
of things to go on, and a new obstacle be raised up to that noble man, 
Dow. I cannot allow our friends to be crushed in this demoniac 
fashion. Of course you know that IMr. P. Sinclair would have an ac- 
tion of libel against the * Edinburgh News ' if he lived here ; and so. 
were I to state all I knew, and give the names of the parties impeached. 
I should be liable, and the greater the truth the greater the libel. I 
shall so state the facts as to avoid this, and I mve a challon2;o to the 
parties aggrieved, therefore, *ask me for the truth, gontlomon, and I'll 
provide you with the evidence in reply to your request.' 
26 



412 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOH^ B. GOUGH. 

"If they are anxious to do so, they can do so; the matter concerns 
the guilty or the innocent rather than me. 

"As to my information, you have rightly opined that it is conclusive 
to myself. I have no more doubt about it than of my present fact of 
writing. Mr. Pope does not know what I am doing; but write him, 
and ask if he has not heard (from once warm admirers of St. Barthol- 
omew) and from many in conjunction, the most conclusive testimony. 

"The * saint' has been often intoxicated with drugs — (twice to my 
own certain knowledge) — once insensibly so, in the streets of London ; 
many times in Glasgow until he was helpless. I have seen many per- 
sons who have assured me of this." 

This part, my lord will see, is justified. 

"And last week Graham of the London Hotel told us that Mr. Gavin 
asked him, under penalty of prosecution, if he declined to sign a paper 
of retractation (denying what he had seen), and of course he refused. 
No action of libel has been taken. No fear about these ' people ' want- 
ing inquiry; and these things are only types of other un-Christian and 
false proceedings. Strong as my own feelings are, still I will ' precipi- 
tate ' nothing, and my second letter will not be sent to America for a 
week or ten days. In haste, yours truly, F. R. Lees." 

That is another threat to Mr. Wilson that he would send a letter to 
America, and publish to the world that which he says here he knows. 

We shall challenge Dr. Lees to come into the witness box, and we 
shall see whether he dares to swear what he knows of his own knowl- 
edge, and can produce any other witness to support the facts and the 
libels that he alleges against Mr. Gough. 

The third letter, gentlemen, is dated the 7th of January : — 

*' My dear Mr. Wilson, — I should have replied to yours yesterday, 
had I not been very sick. I have been attending mechanics' co-opera- 
tive and temperance soirees and lectures so much that I suppose the 
bilious ducts have got wrong, and I am paying the penalty. I am bet- 
ter to-day, and a very heavy snow has fallen, and I cannot get a copy 
of the printed letter until I go to town. I do not agree with you in 
thinking that it is our duty to enter upon a crusade against individual 
hypocrisy or inconsistency. My notion is that we should speak out the 
truth in such cases only when it will do service — i. e. — either prevent 
■evil or produce good. I don't want to hunt down Sinclair's persecutor, 
as he has tried to hunt down poor Sinclair ; but I want to compel by 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 413 

fear of exposure the 'hunter' to undo the mischief as far as possible. 
If he won't, then, of course, justice demands the procedure I shall adopt. 
''If I am mistaken, so much the better for him, and so much the 
worse for me. You will see that I have a practical purpose in view, and 
I cannot consent to go further into the other matter, until the person 
concerned shall authorize me to do so. When I obtain a request and a 
guarantee, I can then obtain the evidence for you ; but until then, it is 
confined to myself. Pope, and a few others. If any gentleman will 
guarantee me against the costs of an action for libel, which was threat- 
ened by 'S, B.' in London, as condition that I prove its truth, I will 
print what I know with names in full." 

Here is a man who says, as you will see by and by, that he will print 
a libel provided he can get any one to guarantee him against the pecu- 
niary consequences of doing so ; and when I put in the correspondence 
of Mr. Wilson, and the letters that he wrote in answer to those calum- 
nious attacks on Mr. Gough — I will not read them at the outset — you 
will see the cowardice with which Dr, Lees has acted from beo-inninor 
to end. 

When he was taxed, when Mr. Wilson said, "You made all these 
attacks;" he said, *'No;" he shrank from it then, and positively in 
some of the letters repeats the very libels over again, though he shrank 
from them and said that he made no charge. Now he says that if any- 
body will guarantee him against the pecuniary consequences, then he 
will go on and libel Mr. Gough just as long as, and in any manner he 
pleases. 

"If they don't it is because they dare not. 

"I can solemnly affirm, for one, that unless I don't know what drug- 
ging is, I have seen the saint intoxicated." 

That is justified by Dr. Lees; but we challenge him to come into the 
box to prove it. 

"For your further satisfaction, however, I have written to the wit- 
nesses to ask if they will write what thoy speak, and must again speak 
if called upon before a jury. We shall see. It can ecarooly be ex- 
pected, however, that they will invite an action for libel which has been 
threatened, though thoy are willing in private conversation to testify to 
what may be seen. Our poor ' S. B.' is not tlio only por<on in the 
world who makes large pretensions, and lives with unfitting illustrations. 



414 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF J0H:N' B. GOUGH. 

I know eminent and eloquent men in the churcb, whose lives are very 
low and base. Our Cagliostro" 

I suppose he compares him to the celebrated Count Cagliostro, and 
seems to indicate that he is a juggler and a trickster. 

"Our Cagliostro is not so much to blame as the world that will be 
humbugged; and I shall not, therefore, regard it as my duty to spe- 
cially expose him, unless it is needful, to any practical purpose of sav- 
ing Sinclair's usefulness, and gagging the unscrupulous foes of the 
Alliance. Yours truly, F. E. Lees." 

A pretty letter certainly, to write to a man to whom he indicates a 
threat that if Mr. Gough does not withdraw that which he had posi- 
tively never done at all, he would visit him with an exposure which, as 
you will understand, to a gentleman of Mr. Grough's position is utterly 
destructive, not only of his character, but of his very existence. 

Gentlemen, the last letter which I will trouble you with is this : — 

^^ Dear Sir, — Am very bad to-day with bile, and write in haste and 
pain. My letter of yesterday would answer some of your queries, and 
the enclosed will answer others. I have written to Marr" 

Mr. Marr is the Secretary of the Scottish League. 

"I have written to Marr direct, asking for disclaimer, and if I don't 
get it, I shall publish the enclosed in the American papers. 
"Ask Mr. Beggs about that London business." 

That is, the intoxication which he ventured to state that he could 
prove himself, that Mr. Gough was insensibly intoxicated in the streets 
of London. 

"Ask Mr. Beggs about that London business — he knows of it, 
though he was not my informant — and Tweedie won't deny it, but only 
try to explain it. Yours truly, F. R. Lees. 



jj 



Enclosed is this printed paper, to which I will now direct your at- 
tention. He enclosed in his letter to Mr. Wilson this piece of printed 
paper, in three strips: 

"I mean that he is often intoxicated, not with alcohol, but with other 
narcotics. I do not tell you of what I have heard, and which for long 
I have struggled to disbelieve; but of what I know. 



AUTOBIOGKAPHT OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 415 

*'I have seen your informant, unless I am greatly mistaken as to who 
he is, clearly intoxicated with some drug, and seen it more than once. 
I know also that he used to consume tobacco by chewing; for he once 
consulted me on the matter, partly to throw me off the true scent. 

"I know a score of persons who have seen him in the same condition, 
■ — some who have seen him helplessly, almost idiotically intoxicated. I 
know others who have seen him insensible in the streets of London. 

"Nervous apoplexy, called! vomiting of matter, and so on, were 
among the symptoms; and I can, if necessary, tell you some shops 
where your informant bought opium." 

Now, I will prove to you that Mr. Gough never bought an ounce of 
opium in his life ; that this is, therefore, a most wicked, deliberate false- 
hood; and we challenge Dr. Lees to go into the box himself, or call 
any human being to prove it. We will call Mr. Gough, and persons 
who have been about him, and intimate friends; and he will tell you 
upon his solemn oath he never bought a grain, or an ounce, or a parti- 
cle of opium in his life. Dr. Lees, however, says : 

"I can tell you some shops where he bought opium. I do not care to 
tell you of his prevarication, of his mercenariness, his meanness, and 
his sponging, — of his fondness for visiting styes and low localities, — ^for 
the tastes of a life-time cannot be got rid of, or the marks of the beast 
be easily eradicated. But of all these, I have a long, authenticated 
catalogue, gathered in various parts of the kingdom ; but I give this 
challenge." 

This challenge which he gives, Mr. Gough accepts, and we shall see 
by and by, how Dr. Lees will come out of this challenge. 

"Let the calumniator of the Alliance, your informant and portrait- 
sketcher, ask me in this country, for the proof ; let him request me to 
bring the matter before a jury of twelve Englishmen of character, and 
I pledge myself, on the honor of a gentleman, and the faith of a Chris- 
tian, to furnish names, and adduce further evidence of what I have now 
asserted. One of my witnesses and informants, was asked to recant 
some time ago, to sign a paper expressing his regret at stating that he 
had seen wliat ho had seen. Prosecution was threatened if he did not; 
he declined, as every honest man would do, and he has not been 
prosecuted." 

And this is the document which was sent to My. "Wilson, and which 
was threatened to be put into an x\moriean paper, to bo circulated in 



416 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

every portion of tbe States wbere Mr. Gough had acquired a very due 
celebrity, and was treated with honor and kindness. 

Gentlemen, this is the outline of the case. There is another letter; 
at the outset I do not wish to weary you with every letter and every 
detail; you will have the opportunity of fully examining them; but 
this is the general outline of the case. We will prove it, as I stated, 
by calling Mr. Gough and other witnesses by-and-bye, when the ques* 
tion arises, and we see the sort of defense which Dr. Lees will attempt 
to set up. The question of damages will be a question for considera- 
tion hereafter ; but this is the general outline of the case, which, on the 
part of Mr. Gough, I propose to lay before you. 

MR. JOHN BARTHOLOMEW GOUGH. 

Examined by Mr. Wilde : 

I believe you are now a lecturer on temperance, residing at 4 South 
Parade, Brompton? I am. 

In the earlier part of your life, I believe, you followed the trade of 
a book-binder? I did. 

Was that in England, or in the United States? In the United States. 

How old are you? Forty-one next August. 

I believe you resided all the earlier portion of your life in the United 
States? I left this country at twelve years of age. 

And resided in the United States? Until 1853. 

At the time when you followed the business of a book-binder, I be- 
lieve, you had become addicted more or less to intemperate habits? I 
had. 

And suffered very much from it? I did. 

But in 1842, I believe, you were fortunate enough to have taken the 
pledge? I signed the pledge the last Monday night in October, 1842, 
and violated that pledge in the beginning of 1843. 

Baron Martin: Was this Father Mathew's pledge? No. 

Mr. Wilde: You took the pledge in 1842? I did. 

Mr. James : Just attend to the questions. 

Mr. Wilde: When did you first become a lecturer on temperance? 
In 1843. 

Were your lectures delivered in different parts of America? Yes. 

I believe your name became known pretty well in the United States, 
did it not? I think so. 

I am told you have traveled something like ten thousand miles a 
year, lecturing? Nearly that. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 417 

In 1845, I believe, you had a short illness? Yes. 

From that time down to the present have you been gaining your 
livelihood as a lecturer on temperance? I have. 

In 1853, you first came to England for a short time? In 1853. 

And I believe you were then engaged by the London Temperance 
League? I was. 

Their office is in the Strand, I believe? It is. 

Did you also enter into an engagement with the Scottish Temperance 
League? I did for a short time. 

They are established at Glasgow? At Glasgow. 

While you were lecturing for these two Leagues, about how often 
did you lecture ? I have my record here ; I could tell precisely. 

But I only want to know in a very general way. Would you be 
every day lecturing? I think in the two years I delivered four hun- 
dred and thirteen, or from that to four hundred and twenty lectures. 

And to immense audiences, I believe? Large. 

I should not be wrong in saying that very many thousands attended 
sometimes ? Yes. 

And your livelihood consists in the remuneration that you receive 
from these Leagues, by employing your abilities in this way? Entirely. 

How much a year do you receive for lecturing? I am not paid by 
the year; but by the single lecture. If I do nothing I am paid nothing. 

What are you paid by the lecture? The National League, and the 
Scottish League also, pay me ten guineas per lecture. 

And you deliver something like two hundred in the year? I do. 

We can form an estimate then. I suppose the admissions to hear 
your lectures are not gratuitous? No. 

Therefore, you have brought funds — considerable funds — to the 
societies by your lectures, have you not? I think I have. 

Have you also written and published? Mr. Tweedie has published 
for me. 

How are those funds obtained? By those admissions? By annual 
subscriptions, donations, legacies. 

And by the profits of the lectures? The Leagues do not receive, if 
I understand it, the profits of my lectures; they are given to the indi- 
vidual societies who employ me. 

What I wanted to know was, what becomes of the surplus of the 
money, beyond what they pay you? It is given to the society which 
procures my services from tlio Leagues. 

Do they expend it in publications? As they please. 



418 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

These societies do publish largely, do they not? They do not pub- 
lish, but they purchase publications from head-quarters. 

And distribute them? And distribute them. 

The object, I believe, of both these societies is to endeavor to eradi- 
cate drunkenness by means of persuasion V Persuasion and prohibition. 

Eut first and chief, persuasion? First and chief, persuasion. 

Mr. Wilde : Persuasion until society is sufficiently ripe for prohibi- 
tion? 

Baron Martin : You are going very far from it ; we are trying a libel. 

Mr. James : We must make it intelligible. 

Mr. Wilde : The object of these societies lies at the bottom of the li- 
bel, therefore I wanted it understood at the outset. 

First, persuasion; and then afterwards as a result prohibition, possi- 
bly? Yes. 

Is there also another society called the United Kingdom Alliance? 
There is. 

Is the defendant. Dr. Lees, a lecturer on behalf of that society? I 
believe he is so published by their papers. 

But he is a lecturer? A lecturer. 

Does that society profess to enforce the cure of drunkenness by per- 
suasion, or by prohibitive means? Their great object is to obtain a 
Maine Law. Their title or their motto is, "Total and immediate pro- 
hibition." 

By law? Yes. 

In March, 1857, were you in Boylston, in the State of Massachu- 
setts? I cannot tell unless I see my book. 

Well, if you have got your book here, I dare say we shall want it 
for some other purpose; but no doubt you recollect enough for my pur- 
pose. In the spring of 1857 you wrote a letter from Massachusetts? 
I did. 

To- a Mr. Campbell? Yes. 

Before you wrote that letter had you an opportunity of seeing to 
what extent the Maine Liquor Law was successful? I thought I had. 

And did you write about that time a letter to Mr. Campbell? I did. 

On the subject of the Maine Liquor Law? I did. 

And did you afterwards see that letter in print? Yes. 

Did Mr. Campbell himself print it? It was printed in the Weekly 
Record. 

Had you anything to do with the printing of it? No; that was 

done by Mr. Campbell. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 419 

Was it priritecl by your suggestion? No. 

Was that the letter in which you used the expression that the Maine 
Liquor Law had become a dead letter? It was. 

Mr. Macaulay : Read it all. 

Mr. Wilde : I will do so with pleasure. Just see whether this para- 
graph applies to it. 

Here Mr. Wilde read the "dead letter" and re- 
sumed : 

Previous to your writing that letter I presume you had heard of Neal 
Dow going to England? Yes. 

Neal Dow is the advocate of the Maine Law, I believe? He was 
the originator of it. 

He was the first advocate of it — the successful advocate? Yes. 

Had you been personally acquainted with him ? I had. 

And had contracted a friendship with him, I believe? I stayed at 
his house when visiting Portland, 

In July, 1-857, I believe, you reached England? I did. 

To fulfil an engagement which you had entered into with the Na- 
tional Temperance League? Yes. 

Was that an engagement to lecture for three years? Three years be- 
tween the two Leagues — eight months for England, and four months 
for Scotland; eight months for England in each year, and four months 
for Scotland. 

Upon the terms you have mentioned — ten guineas a lecture ? Upon 
those terms. 

In the beginning of last January were you lecturing at Cupar, in 
Fife? I was. 

I believe you keep a diary, Mr. Gough? I do, (referring) it was 
in January, 1858. 

Did you there receive a letter from Mr. Wilson ? Yes. 

Let me ask you, who was Mr. Wilson? A gentleman residing at 
Sherwood Hall, a friend of mine. 

Where is that? Near Mansfield. 

In Nottingliamshire? In Nottinghamshire. 

Is he a gentleman of property? I expect so. 

However, ho is living as a gentleman of property, as an independ- 
ent gentleman, at Sherwood Hall? At Sherwood Hall. 

He takes a great interest in this movement of temperance? That 
brought us together. 



420 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF J0H:N' B. GOUGH. 

I cannot ask tlie contents of that letter, but I only want to know 
wbether upon the receipt of that letter it was the first occasion that you 
heard of insinuations being made against you for opium eating or in- 
toxication? No. 

Bat I mean the first charge that had ever been made against you? 
The first charo-e that I could get hold of. 

You had heard rumors, you say, before? I had heard rumors, and 
treated them as rumors. 

I suppose, like most public men, you are not wholly without your 
enemies, Mr. Gou2;h? No. 

On the 15th of January were you informed by Mr. Sinclair Marr, 
of Glasgow, again, as to charges being made against you? I was. 

Mr. Marr is the secretary of one of these Temperance Leagues? 
The Scottish League? 

Had you known him for several years? I knew him for about six 
or eight months when I was in the country before, and came to labor 
under the society of which he was the secretary. 

Did you see Mr. Marr, or hear from him? I saw him. 

Did he then hand you this letter? — [the letter was handed to the 
witness]. He read it to the company in my room, and then handed it 
round, that we might all see the signatures, — to several gentlemen. 

Although you say you had heard from Mr. Wilson that there had 
been a specific charge made against you 

Mr. Macaulay : My lord, I do not want to encumber the case with 
evidence. Inasmuch as the libel, so-called, is conveyed in a letter to 
the plaintiff by Mr. Wilson, to whom it is addressed — and he says so — 
if it is convenient I should like to see Mr. Wilson's letter, and if you 
will, take that part of Mr. Gough's evidence. 

Mr. Wilde : By all means. 

Mr. James : We are showing how Mr. Gough heard of it. 

Mr. Macaulay : In the correspondence with Mr. W^ilson he gives no 
evidence of its being conveyed to Mr. Gough. 

Mr. James : 1 will call Mr. Wilson. 

Mr. Macaulay : But I should like to see this letter. 

Baron Martin : If this letter is objectionable in the examination 

Mr. Macaulay : I do not say it is objectionable. 

Mr. Wilde : Then, if there is nothing objectionable in it, we will go 
on. Now, Mr. Gough, although you had known that there was a charge 
made against you, did you, before Mr. Marr showed you that letter, 
know it was the defendant, Dr. Lees, who was attacking you? 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 



421 



I did not; and did not know then that he was ray accuser to Mr. 
Wilson. 

But when you knew that, you knew it was the original letter of Dr. 
Lees? To Mr. Marr. 

Mr. James : It was the .first time he heard of it distinctly. 

Mr. Wilde: That letter, I see, speaks of your eating opium. I may 
at once ask you whether you ever ate opium in your life ? I never did. 

Did you ever buy opium? I never bought a bit in my life. 

Or chewed opium? Never chewed a bit in my life. 

The whole thing is a fabrication with reference to the opium? The 
whole thing with reference to the opium is a fabrication. 

Or any other narcotic? I am not speaking of tobacco, you know. 

There is one case, if you will allow me to explain it, in my early history, 
which is published in the history of my life. I was very desperate, 
friendless, and in despair, and I very wickedly bought sixpenny worth 
of laudanum, kept it in my waistcoat pocket a week, and one night 
when I felt great distress at the utter impossibility of my ever rising in 
life 

Baron Martin : We had better not go into that. 

Mr. Wilde : I did not wish to stop the witness. 

The Witness : But I never touched my tongue to it. That is the 
only time in my life. I should not have mentioned this, but you asked 
me "in my whole life." 

That was before you took the pledge, therefore, in 1842? In 1840 
or 1841. 

The libel also speaks of your being narcotically and helplessly intox- 
icated. Now, I must ask you whether, with opium, or spirits, or wine, 
or fermented liquors of any sort — I am speaking of the period since you 
took the pledge — since 1843 — you were ever intoxicated, or whether 
you ever drank any intoxicating liquor in your lips? Since 1845, I 
can take my oath I never did. 

Mr. Macaulay: Since when? Witness: Since 1845. 

Mr. Wilde: Since 1845 you never had spirits, or wine, or any fer- 
mented liquor in your lips? Except in 184G, when it was given mo 
as a medicine by Dr. Winship of Boxbury, who gave it to mo, a 
spoonful at a time, when I was expected to die. 

I see in this libel there are some charges spoken of as being made 
against the Alliance by a Mr. Dexter; who is Mr. Dexter? Tlio editor 
of "The Congregationalist" paper, in Boston. 

It would appear from the dofeudaut'^s letter tliat some article had ap- 



422 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN" B. GOUGH. 

peared in that paper of Mr. Dexter's, reflecting on the Alliance soci- 
ety? There was. 

There was such a letter? There was. 

And was there any reflection upon a Mr. Sinclair? Not in that pa- 
per, I believe. 

Then I will keep to the one. Had you anything to do with the writ- 
ing or the publication of that article ? Not anything. 

You had nothing to do with the wi'iting or publication of that arti- 
cle ? I had nothing to do with it. 

Did you know of the article, or of its being written, before it ap- 
peared? I did not. 

Did you know of the article after it appeared, before you got this 
letter ? I saw it in the paper ; we take it, it comes regularly. 

Oh ! you take the paper ? But before you took the paper, in the 
usual course of the paper arriving to you, did you know anything about 

it? No. 

And had no hand in it whatever? No. 

Have you ever been in correspondence, directly or indu'ectly, with 
Mr. Dexter? Never. 

Have you ever seen him? I saw him once. 

To speak to him? Once to speak to him. 

Is that all? The night before I sailed, that is all. 

Since you sailed, and since you came over to England, have you ever 
been in communication with him? Not at all. 

With reference to Mr. Sinclair — he is alluded to, I see, here; in what 
paper was it that any article appeared about Mr. Sinclair? In the 
*' Edinburgh News." 

Had you anything to do with the publication of that article? No. 

Directly or indirectly? Neither dii'ectly nor indirectly. 

Do you take the " Edinburgh News?" No. 

Did you see the article after it appeared? I did. 

Had you seen it before you saw this letter of Dr. Lees — the letter 
in which he speaks of it? Do you recollect whether you had seen it 
before that? 

Before I had seen Dr. Lees' letter to Mr. Marr? 

Yes, before you saw Dr. Lees' letter to Mr. Marr? Yes. 

Did you know anything of the article before it appeared in the 
paper? I expected there would be an article reflecting on Mr. Sin- 
clair. 

Had you anything to do with it? No. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 423 

Who was Sinclair ? He was formerly the keeper of a temperance 
hotel in Edinburgh. 

What was he doing at the time when the article appeared? He was 
in America. 

What part was he taking in America? He was lecturing to children 
on temperance. 

I see that this letter, or one of the others — it matters little which — 
speaks of your having been insensibly and otherwise intoxicated in the 
streets of London? Yes. 

Is there a word of truth in that accusation? No. 

Do you recollect the afternoon of the 23d March, 1855? Just 
turn to your diary and see whether you were in London at that time. 

Baron Martin : I do agree with Mr. Macaulay that it would be more 
convenient that the letter should be read. Let them hear it, and see 
what it is. 

Mr. Wilde : We will put it in. 

Mr. Macaulay : I think the more convenient mode will be to call Mr. 
Wilson. 

Baron Martin : You had better call Mr. Wilson, then, and let Mr. 
Gough stand over ; it will be more convenient. 

Mr. James: We will ask Mr. Wilson. 

Baron Martin : Mr. Macaulay adopts that view, and Mr. Macaulay 
has the right of cross-examining Mr. Wilson. 

Mr. James: Of course, my lord, I shall not interfere with it. 

Baron Martin : The ordinary way in an action for libel is to prove 
the libel. 

Mr, James : Certainly, my lord. 

Mr. Wilde : Mr. Wilson had better be sworn and asked the hand- 
writins;. 

Baron Martin : You cannot adopt that course except IMr. Macaulay 
wishes. He has a right to put him in the box and cross-examine him . 

Mr. James : We are agreeable to any course. We are only endeav- 
oring to consult the convenience of all parties. 

Baron Martin : After the positive statement of IMr. Gough respecting 
the imputation upon him, some satisfiictory arrangement might bo made 
with the parties so as to prevent the case going any further. I suppose 
that is his main object. 

JMr, James: It is to vindicate his character, and put an end to these 
scandalous rumors, which are very destructive to him in his position. 

Mr. Macaulay : I think my learned friend Mr. Jauios and I undei'- 



424 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

stand one another, my lord. I Tvisli to say one word. Dr. Lees, the 
defendant here to these libels contained in the letters addressed to Mr. 
Wilson — (I wish my learned friend to mark what I am saying, because 
I am not going to trespass beyond what I may be thought justified in 
doing) — is writing, Mr. Gough sa3^s, to his own intimate friend, and 
these letters to Mr. Wilson are the libels set forth by my learned friend. 

Dr. Lees states most emphatically, and with great reiteration, no 
doubt, that he has this information, which he entirely believes, with re- 
gard to certain habits of Mr. Gough, which are inconsistent with his 
public professions ; and the foundation of his applying to Mr. Wilson, 
is this: — "I charge Mr. Gough with being the author of a persecuting 
attack upon one Peter Sinclair, who has been ferociously and improp- 
erly attacked in newspapers, which have been disseminated in America 
to his prejudice ; and from information that I have, I have ground to 
believe that Mr. Gough is at the bottom of these attacks upon Mr. Sin- 
clair. I tell you, not the world, but I tell you, as Mr. Gough's friend 
that I have this information and belief with regard to his habits, and I 
wish you to let Mr. Gough know that unless I procure a retractation of 
the attacks upon Sinclair, in whose defense I propose to attack Mr. 
Gough, I shall persist in making those charges against Mr. Gough." 

That is the substance of the letters to Mr. Wilson, containing the 
libel. Mr. Wilson, I think, would appear to have commxitted the error 
of never communicating to Mr. Gough the true character of the letter 
from Dr. Lees to himself; in other words, Mr. Gough never had given 
to him by Mr. Wilson the opportunity of satisfying Dr. Lees, which he 
has had to-day; that he, Mr. Gough, was, in point of fact, not author 
of, and had nothing to do with the attacks on Peter Sinclair, who was a 
Scotchman in America, and engaged in this temperance question on his 
own account; or the other attacks on the operations of the Alliance, 
which Dr. Lees attributed to Mr. Gough. 

If the communication had gone from Mr. Wilson to Mr. Gough in 
the sense and in the terms in which it went from Dr. Lees to Mr. Wil- 
son, namely, this, — "Dr. Lees says you are the author or are privy to 
such and such attacks upon Peter Sinclair — you are the author of or 
are privy to such and such libelous attacks upon the directorate of the 
Alliance, and Dr. Lees has got these charges communicated to him 
with regard to you, which we will press upon you unless you retract 
your attacks on Peter Sinclair." Mr. Gough would have had the op- 
portunity of showing, as he has to-day, that he had nothing whatever 
to do with these publications. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOTJGH. 



425 



Now, my lord, Mr. Gough having stated that much, and having 
also gone on into a matter into which I have not, and I am sure Dr. 
Lees has not, the least wish to enter, or to appear and bring forward 
here as the accusers of Mr. Gough — a function which Dr. Lees is not 
desirous of performing, although he thought his information warranted 
him in his assertions; Dr. Lees, having heard this disavowal of Mr. 
Gough — in which he places implicit credit — that he had nothing what- 
ever to do with those grievances that set Dr. Lees in motion when cor- 
responding with Mr. Wilson, — Dr. Lees is perfectly prepared to retract 
his justification, and by no means, in retracting that justification, to 
have it understood that Mr. Gough, who is not to be cross-examined by 
me, is otherwise than entirely to be believed upon his oath. Dr. Lees 
is willing and anxious that this matter should be shortened. 

Baron Martin : There should be a retractation of the charges against 
Mr. Gough in the plainest possible terms. 

Mr. James : They are utterly destructive of Mr. Gough's position. 

Baron Martin : I think if a man brings forward charges of this kind 
against another, there should be an utter retractation of them. 

Mr. Macaulay : It would never appear that Dr. Lees would have dis- 
seminated this charge, which of course is highly libelous, in any other 
sense than as a strict communication to a personal and confidential friend 
of Mr. Gough. It is a fact, that the whole correspondence in which 
those accusations occur had been deemed by Dr. Lees to be communi- 
cations to the confidential friend of Mr. Gough. 

Mr. James: As counsel for Mr. Gough, I have nothing whatever 
to do with any motives that may have actuated Dr. Lees in writing these 
libels. If my friend asks me whether Mr. Gough denies most explic- 
itly having been any party to the attack on Mr. Sinclair, Mv. Gough 
has denied it upon his oath. I have nothing whatever to do with any 
motives that actuated Dr. Lees in putting forward those libels; all I, 
on the part of Mr. Gough, require, — and I can take no less, — is a 
most positive and absolute retractation of every one of those charges 
that have been made against Mr. Gough's character, which he is 
bound to vindicate ; otherwise the charges are utterly destructive of his 
position. 

Whatever Dr. Lees' motives may have been, whether ho chooses to 
come forward in a sort of Quixotic stylo 

Baron Martin : As far as the ovidonoo has gone, tho plaiiititf is oloarl}' 
entitled to, and can take nothing loss than, an ample retractation. 

Mr. James ; If there is an entire rotractatiou of the charges, I shall 



426 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHJq" B. GOUGH. 

be perfectly satisfied with it ; but I have nothing to do with Dr. Lees' 
motives. 

Mr. Macaulay : Dr. Lees never had any object, my lord 

Baron Martin : I cannot deal with it, Mr. Macaulay ; but my own 
notion is, that Mr. James takes a right view of it. Nothing can justify 
a man in making these statements, unless upon the clearest sort of evi- 
dence, under any provocation. 

Mr. Macaulay : I was very much misunderstood, I apprehend, if I 
gave it in a smaller sense than that which I should wish. To say noth- 
ing about the intemperate language, Dr. Lees was very much excited 
about his friend Sinclair ; but what he advanced was upon information, 
which information he is not prepared, nor does he in the least pretend, 
to bring forward evidence to substantiate before this jury. 

Mr. James : My lord, that is not sufficient. 
- Mr. Macaulay: I must guard myself against an admission that Dr 
Lees wantonly, or against an honest conviction in his mind at the time, 
advanced these charges against Mr. Gough maliciously. I can make 
no such admission as that. 

Mr. James : I do not ask that, nor do I require it. What I require 
is, that now, upon this stage of the proceedings, upon reflection, Dr. 
Lees is satisfied that there is no truth or pretence for those charges. 
That is what I require. I require no humiliation from Dr. Lees as to 
his motive at the time when he wrote them. I only want him to come 
into a court of justice and say, — " On reflection, there is no justification 
for those charges." I should be guilty of desertion of my client if I 
asked for less. 

Baron Martin : Just refer, Mr. Macaulay, to your third plea. ■ 

Mr. Macaulay : My lord, all that Dr. Lees can ever say upon that 
is, that the information on which that plea was founded, was the inform- 
ation of the opinion of individuals. After what Mr. Gough has said, 
and said upon his oath — after that, therefore, which Dr. Lees now 
knows, but which he did not know then, it cannot be denied ; and I 
have no hesitation in saying, in the most open and abundant manner, 
Dr. Lees did not set up, and would not in his own mind set up, the 
opinion of those who merely spoke from observation. 

Baron Martin : I think you had better go on with the case. 

Mr. James : There is a portion of the libel in which Dr. Lees says he 
has seen the plaintiff clearly intoxicated with some drug, and seen it 
more than once. 

Mr. Wilde : We had better go on with it. 



AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 427 

Baron Martin : You had better call and prove the libel in the ordi- 
nary way. 

Mr. Macaulay : I hope Dr. Lees is not going to suffer by my bun- 
gling expression. 

Baron Martin : He is not suffering at all. "We will go through his 
case, and it shall be as fairly tried as it can possibly be. 

Mr. Macaulay : The admission was only so phrased by me for fear 
of admitting that which I never can admit — that Dr. Lees had published 
these things not believing that they were true when he published them. 
I never can believe that Dr. Lees published these things to Mr. WilsoUj 
having no belief of their truth at the time he published them. What I 
desired to do was, instead of cross-examining Mr. Gough, to make a re- 
tractation of the justification — in other words a retractation on Dr. 
Lees' part of the charges against Mr. Gough, instead of going into 
any attempt to justify them ; and I thought my learned friend and I 
had understood one another, and that he was content. 

Baron Martin : If Mr. James is content, I am sure I am content. 

Mr. James : My lord, if I am to understand that the charges that 
have been made are wholly and distinctly withdrawn, I am satisfied. 
It is plain enough. 

Mr. Macaulay : I thought I was imperfectly understood. 

Baron Martin : The fourth plea to the second count of the declaration 
states that the defendant had seen the plaintiff, himself, intoxicated in 
Glasgow. I think you want a distinct and plain retractation of that, 
without any qualification. 

Mr. Macaulay : It is given, my lord. 

Baron Martin : It is all withdrawn, then, I understand ? 

Mr. James : It is, my lord. 

Baron Martin : I think the plaintiff is entitled to a verdict, and to a 
plain, distinct, and entire retractation. What will you take a verdict for ? 

Mr. James : Five guineas. 

The verdict was accordingly taken for five guineas. 

Thus ended the trial of Gough vs. Lees. 
27 



CHAPTER XXIX. 

Continued Controversy — Macaulay's Letter — Extract from tlie " Lon- 
don Morning Star " — " Manchester Examiner and Times." 

But the end of the controversy was not yet. 
Though I had the privilege of leaving to the Jury 
the question of damages, I proposed by my counsel 
to receive a verdict, '' ^Ye guineas by consent" to 
carry costs — as I know I had no motive but to gain a 
complete vindication of my character from the as- 
saults made upon it by Dr. Lees. And when the 
" distinct and plain retractation without any qualifica- 
tion" was given, I was, content; but Dr. Lees, that 
same day, sent a communication to the newspapers 
that were in the interests of the Alliance, which they 
published in the same column with their report of the 
trial. The "Record" and '^ Scottish Journal" also re- 
ceived copies. I insert Mr. Nelson's letter to the 
editor of the " Alliance Weekly News," with the en- 
closure from Dr. Lees : 

Manchester, June 24, 1858. 

Sir, — ^In justice to Dr. Lees, I beg to request your insertion of the 
enclosed, with your report of the trial. A copy has also been sent to 
the other temperance journals, including the " Weekly Record," and 
the journal of the " Scottish Temperance League." 

Yours truly, 

J. E. Nelson, 
Hon Sec. of Dr. Lees' Defense Fund. 



AUTOBIOGEAPHT OF JOHN^ B. GOUGH. 429 

(Enclosure.) 
GOUGH vs. LEES. 

"The retractation made by my counsel on which the nominal verdict 
was given, was made without any authority from me, or my solicitors; 
on the contrary, I strenuously protested against it, and insisted on the 
case proceeding, fearless of the issue." (Signed) F. K. Lees. 

London, June 21, 1858. 

One of my friends wrote to Mr. Macaulay, (Lees' 
counsel) and received the annexed letter: 

Midland Circuit, Derby, 27th July. 

Sir, — ^I had heard, but not seen in print that Dr. Lees has stated 
that the course taken by me on his behalf on the trial of the action by 
Mr. Gough was without his authority. Inasmuch as he was in court 
sitting under me, and I took the course I did after repeated communi- 
cations with him, and ultimately with his assent, (without which I 
could have done nothing,) I did not regard the reports I heard, of what 
others had read in newspapers I did not see, as of any moment. I 
have had no communication from Dr. Lees, or any other person on his 
behalf since the trial. The imputation that I acted otherwise than out 
of a simple regard to the interests of Dr. Lees, or with any understand- 
ing with Mr. James inconsistent with my duty to my client, is one which 
I do not think it worth my while to combat, and which I am sure would 
not be attempted to be put upon me in the presence of any to whom I 
am known. The mere fact is, that in common with two eminent 
members of the Bar, who were associated with me in Dr. Lees' defense, 
I was of opinion that to persist in endeavoring to justify, with the evi- 
dence we had, the libels complained of, would have resulted in a verdict 
for an amount of damages which would have been absolutely disastrous 
to Dr. Lees, and I urged upon him most strongly the propriety of with- 
drawing from the case in the manner adopted, unless indeed, the persons 
who seemed to be aiding him in the matter were prepared to pay for him 
any amount of damages, with the costs, that the jury might awunl — 
otherwise if Dr. Lees were not in a condition to protect himself bj pay- 
ment out of his own resources from the consequences of an advcrj:e 
verdict, his only resort would be the Lisolvent Court, where he would 
infallibly incur a lengthened term of imprisonment before he could Ik> 
discharged from a debt so incurred. 

These considerations were strongly urged by me upon Dr. Lees, and 



430 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

■ultimately his consent was given that I should withdraw from the further 
defense of the case ; if I had failed in inducing Dr. Lees to conform 
himself to my advice, I should have had no choice but to proceed ; but 
my first duty was to take care if I could that my client should not by 
over credulousness in his own case, and by inexperience of and the 
probable chance of a trial at law be betrayed into his pecuniary ruin. 
I am, as you may perceive, writing in very great haste, but I believe I 
have given you substantially the information you require. 

I am, sir, very obediently, Kenneth Macaulay. 

P. S. — Understand that I had, and have no opinion whether Mr. 
Gongh was or was not liable to the charge made by Dr. Lees ; but the 
ground of my advice to Dr. Lees was, that he was not prepared with 
anything like an adequate proof for the purpose of his defense. 

Dr. Lees refused to pay the expense I had incurred 
— the verdict giving me the costs. Many friends 
urged me to press their payment on him by law, but 
as I had gained all I asked, and knowing that the re- 
sult of such pressure would be imprisonment to him, 
I declined doing so. The costs were between 8 and 
£900 — the costs taxed off, were £348 18s. 3d., which 
were paid out of a fund raised among those who sym- 
pathized with me. This fund amounted to £100, 
over the sum paid for the taxed costs, — and at a pub- 
lic breakfast the Secretaries to the fund, presented 
me with that sum — which I respectfully declined, pre- 
ferring to pay the costs myself, though by so doing, I 
knew I was relieving my accuser of all obligation. 
The trial and attendant expenses cost me nearly 
$5,000. A defense fund was started for Dr. Lees, and 
£1,000 were presented to him at a public meeting in 
Leeds. In concluding the history of these transac- 
tions, I shall, at the risk of wearying my reader, in- 
sert an article from the " London Morning Star," re- 
published in the " Manchester Examiner and Times/' 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 431 

with Dr.- Lees' letter and the " Times' " reply — and 
then gather the documents strewing my library^ and 
lock them up from the light of day — having given 
but the bald, bare facts of the case, in justice to my- 
self and to all concerned, and for the information of 
friends in America, who may desire an accurate knowl- 
edge of the history of the "dead letter" and its 
results. 

The leader in the " London Morning Star " of Au- 
gust 10, 1860, was as follows: 

This morning a gentleman leaves London on his return to America, 
who has occupied sufficient space in the estimation of a considerable sec- 
tion of the public, to make the results of his labors generally interesting. 
The story of Mr. J. B. Gough's life is soon told, and as told by himself is 
deeply interesting. It is a chapter remarkable for its depth of shadow and 
its sparkling sunshine, containing nearly all that can debase, and nearly 
all that can gratify and elevate a man. Born in England, he was sent 
to America when a boy, and instead of finding fortune, he became the 
victim of intemperance. The unpatronizing kindness of a working man 
rescued him from the degradation. To use his own expression, he 
" signed the pledge," and from that day to this he has risen in the so- 
cial scale. His fame as a public speaker in America reached those in- 
terested in the temperance movement in this country, and he was invited 
over for six weeks by the National Temperance League. He came, 
and his services were in such request, that he remained two years. He 
returned to America — came back a second time to this country, where 
he has remained three years, one of these years being devoted to Scot- 
land and Ireland, and the other two to England, where he has delivered 
three hundred and ninety addresses, to an aggregate of at least five 
hundred thousand hearers, nearly twelve thousand of whom are said 
to have signed the temperance pledge. 

On Wednesday evening, when he delivered his ninety-fifth oration in 
Exeter Hall, he was presented with an address, which sliows tlio estima- 
tion in which he is held by men of all parties. The first signature was 
that of Sir Fitzroy Kelly, followed by nearly three hundred otliors, 
embracing a large proportion of the best known orators, and pliilau- 
thropists of England. The secret of Mr. Gough's all but universal 



432 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHNS' B. GOUGH. 

success, on a subject in whicli a comparatively small section of tlie pub- 
lic take special interest, is at least remarkable, and to describe it in a 
sentence, it is the merit of shedding the radiance of genius on difficul- 
ties, over which other temperance orators have s iimbled, and the stiU 
higher merit of showing how the spirit, and bearing of a Christian gen- 
tleman ennoble, and irresistibly strengthen the apostle of a good cause. 

But, in other respects, Mr. Gough has proved himself no ordinary 
man. What would have ruined ninety-nine out of every hundred 
strong men, has only strengthened him. He came the first time her- 
alded by high hopes, and was welcomed with paroxysms of laudation. 
Everything which could stimulate vanity was lavished upon him by the 
more ardent section of his followers. When he came the second time, 
those who had formerly hailed him with irrational praise, began to per- 
secute him with still more irrational folly. He had committed two 
great crimes. He expressed an honest opinion on the Maine law — an 
opinion which nearly all disinterested men now believe to have been 
correct. He had been guilty of the still more unpardonable crime of 
casting former temperance orators into shade, and the savage envy of 
aspiring drones sought solace in torturing his spirit, through an effort 
to brand him as an intemperate hypocrite. He vindicated his character 
before the British public in a court of law, and his accusers withdrew 
the accusation, apologized, and accepted a verdict for damages. 

Such chano-e of treatment has often before driven strono^ men to des- 

o o 

pair. It drove Byron to debauchery, and Hayclyn to self-destruction ; 
but through the power of living faith, Gough has risen on the wave in- 
tended to overwhelm him, brighter in spirit, and stronger in his intel- 
lectual manhood. Nor were feeble although plausible objections un- 
used to his disparagement. To the weakly pious he was represented as 
" too dramatic," and to the would-be critical as " too rhetorical," Both 
parties, shaking their wise heads, " had always thought so ; " innocently 
ignorant of the facts that dramatic power is one of the rarest gifts of 
geniuses, and that it was the want of rhetoric from which his earlier ad- 
dresses in this country most severely suffered. Pretentious pedants at- 
tempted to prove him ignorant of Scripture wines, and logic, while 
many well-meaning mediocrities professed themselves disappointed at 
his want of refinement ; but it is now all but universally conceded that 
his graphic illustrations contain more genuine logical power, than the 
best constructed syllogisms of his most acute detractors, and that his 
descriptions of the external world, or the emotions of the mind, are, ac^ 
cording to all the highest standards, more generally refined than that 



AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 433 

dulness, according to scholastic rule, wbich sometimes passes under the 
more euphonious word, refinement. Shakspeare and Milton, Coleridge 
and Sir Walter Scott, were subjected to the same charge by the pro- 
genitors of this race of critics. Even the Bible has not escaped the 
fastidious doubts of this class of objectors; but it is the glory of 
Gough's eloquence, that he deals with men, and not with words supposed 
to represent them ; and the secret of his strength is hidden in the fact 
that, like all successful orators, from Demosthenes to Lord Brougham, 
he deals with nature as it is, and not as these refinement-mongers would 
prefer to see it. 

There is a refinement, however, — although not that which such ob- 
jectors desiderate — in which Mr. Gough has made great advances, since 
he first, and especially since he last came to this country. Then, like 
other young men, he was occasionally redundant in '* fine things," and 
there was not unfrequently a substitution of sail where ballast would 
have added greater dignity to the onward flow of the discourse ; but the 
mental conflict through which his enemies have dragged him, has puri- 
fied his style from that too often attractive alloy, and what has increased 
his influence over minds educated and thoughtful, has, in a correspond- 
ing ratio, destroyed his prestige among the fire-eating and ignorant. 
Those who most appreciate the graphic power of Dante, and the music 
of Shelley, increasingly admire the growing power of Mr. Gough, while 
those to whom raving rant is "glorious eloquence," and unintelligible 
labyrinths " most convincing proof," relieve their sour souls on him who 
was formerly the object of their adoration. This is, itself, unanswerable 
evidence of his growing power in a purer and higher state of oratory ; not 
in the refinement of college speeches and boarding-school prize poems, 
which have as little connection with genius, as the often washings of a 
Pharisee with devotion, — but in a refinement through which genius has 
always perplexed rules and etiquette, and which enabled Bonaparte to 
fight battles in December, when by all the rules of Marshal Daun " the 
little corporal " ought to have gone into winter quarters in November. 

For a hundred and fifty years nearly all good causes suffered by this 
mechanical smoothness — misnamed refinement. Poetry had, from the 
"Tempest" and "Comus," been refined down to odes by now forgot- 
ten poetasters, when Cowper burst the swaddling bands of fashion, and 
gave vent to his indignant muse in rugged and unwonted verse. In re- 
ligion, the masculine thought and fearless energy of Puritans and Cov- 
enanters had been refined down to the feeble classioality of Blair, and 
the simpering formalism of Cowper's "well-bred" whisperer, till Wes- 



434 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

ley and Whitfield, Hall and Chalmers, tore aside the flimsy sham, and, 
with most unpolite earnestness, called their fellow-sinners to repentance. 
These scholastic minds were perhaps necessary to direct the storming of 
this huge burden and imposture, and others have entered the breach to 
redeem all that was valuable in poetry, theology, politics, and general 
thought, from this unbearable refinement. 

Without expressing an opinion on the temperance question, it is but 
justice to its more sensible adherents to admit that it is not the least 
conspicuous honor of the temperance cause that it has rescued all that 
pertains to social science and popular elevation from the freezing grasp 
of this absurd tyranny. 

Men with little learning, but brim full of bitter experience, threw 
burning words into the convictions of their fellow-sufferers, and the 
temperance men were the principal supporters of such unrefined de- 
claimers. But the sound increased in volume, till the more susceptible 
portions of respectability were compelled to hear. The speaking out 
of plain men, on their peculiar wrongs and wants was listened to with 
respect, and now it has almost become a fashion, in all but the most 
old-fashioned circles, to profess the loudest interest in what the unre- 
fined classes either think or say. 

The temperance movement has been one important agent in securing 
this change, and Mr. Gough will ever be esteemed one of the most 
eminent trophies of this disruption of that insipid conformity to 
schools, and the return to that higher standard of nature's eloquence, 
of which his own style is at once a result and one of the most eminent 
examples. Thousands upon thousands in Britain bless him for his 
work's sake. 

The following is from the "Manchester Examiner 
and Times" of August 23, 1860: 

GOUGH AND THE TEMPERANCE ADVOCATES. 

To the editor of the " Examiner and Times : Sir, — I noticed in your 
paper the other day a leader extracted from the " Morning Star," fur- 
nished, as I have reason to know, to that journal by the employers of 
Mr. Gough. With the fulsome eulogies and extraordinary opinions on 
oratory contained in that article, I have nothing to do ; but to the covert 
and cowardly reference to "the other advocates" of the temperance 
cause in the mass, I have a right to complain. It is, however, rather 
as a matter of duty to yourself and your readers, that you may be de- 



4f 

AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN" B. GOUGH. 435 

livered from an imposition, and a delusion, that I now write you in re- 
gard to some matters of fact, merely in addition posting you my final 
words for your information as respects the true history of the libel case. 

1. The so-called Autobiography was written by Dr. Dix, of Boston, 
*' sweetened" editions of which have been prepared for the English 
market, and so far from its subject, after signing the pledge, "from 
that day to this," rising in estimation, the fact is, that he relapsed again 
and again into the most degrading vice, I place the facts before you. 

2. The list of three hundred names, so far from containing the great 
names of the movement, is more remarhahle for the omissio7i than 
anything else, and after being hawked about for months, is at least 
chiefly filled either with outsiders, or with names little known, includ- 
ing entire family circles, young and old, male and female, and some not 
abstainers. 

3. The parties who " welcomed him with paroxysms of laudation " 
on his first visit, are precisely the same who laud and employ him now, 
— viz : the parties who sent the article to the " Morning Star." 

4. My quarrel and that of others with the " orator," was not that 
he expressed an honest opinion, but that he published as facts what was 
contradicted by himself to his American friends (Delevan and McCoy); 
that what he said to them there he declined to say to Mr. Pope here ; 
that he has frequently since said in public that " he never said that the 
Maine Law was a failure, though you and I know he did. We cannot 
— at least, I cannot — patronize mendacious men, or any pretense of 
policy or religion. 

5. Moreover, the libel case had its origin in the Demoine libel pub- 
lished against Sinclair, as you will see from the " History of a Blunder," 
now sent you ; it was a quarrel with me personally, to injure the Alli- 
ance friends and policy. 

6. "The savage envy of aspiring drones" (?) is ascribed in your 
citation to some persons who were "cast into the shade" by the light 
of this new luminary. What was the foot ? That nearly all the ad- 
vocates united to draw up an address of warm welcome to him ; I my- 
self drew up the address;* and to the day of his departure I never 
uttered in public a word against hira ; most of the other advocates eulo- 
gized him, and it was he who first broke the peace, in his^r^^ speech on 
his second visit by a violent attack upon myself, Mr. Pope, Judge 
Marshall, and the secretary of the Alliance. (T compelled him to apol- 

* This address Avas never presented to me ; M-hatovor became of it, I know not 



436 AUTOBIOGHAPHY OF JOH^ B. GOUGH. 

ogize to myself.) We were the injured parties, misrepresented again and 
again ; and my offense was the sole one of expressing my knowledge in 
a private and confidential letter, written expressly to avoid a public 
scandal. When Mr. Beggs was secretary of the National Temperance 
Society, in 1847, the proposal to bring the " orator " was cushioned on 
the ground of instability. 

7. " Pretentious pedants " are said to have attempted io " prove him 
ignorant of Scripture wines ; as far as I know, the orator never made 
any pretensions to such knowledge, and the task, therefore, would have 
been of supererogation. But the fact is, no one ever thougJd of bothering 
the orator'' s brains with either criticism or logic at all. The charge is 
hauled in for the evil purpose of discrediting some one else. 

8. A legal vindication against moral charges is often no vindication 
at all, and it is not true that I ever retracted or apologized, or instructed 
others to do it for me. Wishing you success, however, in your en- 
deavors to ascertain the truth, I am, yours truly, F. R. Lees. 

Leeds, August 18, 1860. 

The editor of the Manchester "Examiner and 
Times" commented on the above letter as follows : 

In another part of our impression will be found a letter from Dr. 
F. R. Lees, one of the agents and lecturers of the United Kingdom 
Alliance. The letter is a libel, but we deliberately risk its publication, 
partly to oblige Dr. Lees, whom a too rigorous adherence on our part to 
the rules of good breeding would perpetually exclude from our columns, 
and partly to show how a good cause may be damaged by the conduct 
of its promoters. We had, it seems, the ill-luck to offend Dr. Lees, by 
an article on Mr. Gough which we lately extracted from the " Morning 
Star." We thought the article a good one, eulogistic of Mr. Gough, 
but within proper limits, and embodying, on the whole, a just and can- 
did estimate of his career, and so we gave our readers the opportunity 
of perusing it. Dr. Lees thinks otherwise. In his opinion — and, as a 
lecturer in the same field, his opinion is worth knowing — the "eulo- 
gies" on Mr. Gough contained in the article are "fulsome," and its 
"opinions on oratory" "extraordinary." In other words. Dr. Lees, 
himself a temperance lecturer of considerable pretensions, decidedly 
quarrels with those people who think that Mr. Gough is the most elo- 
quent of temperance lecturers. The public have ignorantly put the 
saddle on the wrong horse. If they had understood oratory better they 
would have awarded the palm to some other man. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHK B. GOUGH. 437 

Still Dr. Lees does not trouble himself about this mistake. He is 
* above such things. He simply wishes to save us from " an imposition 
and a delusion" in regard to matters of fact. We are obliged to him, 
though at the same time we beg to say that having taken the trouble to 
read through some hundred and thirty letters on the points in dispute, 
we think ourselves competent to form an opinion without his aid. Dr. 
Lees says he has a right to complain, because of the " covert and cow- 
ardly reference " made in the article to "the other advocates'^ of the 
temperance cause. We find no such phrase in the whole article. 
*' Other temperance orators" are the words used. The discrepancy 
may appear slight, but nobody knows better than Dr. Lees that the 
definite article "the" may make all the difference between a universal 
and a particular assertion. The article also speaks of the " savage 
envy of aspiring drones," and of " men who were cast into the shade 
by the light of this new luminary." Dr. Lees will have it that these 
expressions were meant to apply to him. We cannot agree with him 
in the grounds of this opinion. Dr. Lees is a Ph. D. He is conse- 
quently a learned man. He is an ingenious and inexhaustible writer. 
He is considerably skilled in the science and practice of logic. He can 
construct syllogisms by the page. He has fought with the " Westmin- 
ster Review," and has recently earned fresh laurels in a savage en- 
counter with Mr. Lewes. If it were necessary to say more, we might 
add that, on his own testimony, when he went to Scotland after Mr. 
Gough had swept through the land, he was greeted by "large and en- 
thusiastic meetings." The modesty of Dr. Lees exposes him to error. 
He must not apply the above expressions to himself. We beg to as- 
sure him that he is not a "drone," and that his "light" is one which 
no new luminary can extinguish. 

Still, believing himself to be slighted, Dr. Lees will have his re- 
venge; not on personal grounds, of course, but merely for the love of 
truth. Wo are sorry to see him driven to this necessity, for it is the 
misfortune of Dr. Lees that, whenever he engages in controversy, he 
does more harm to himself than to his opponent. This is the case with 
him to-day. He tells us that the article in question was " furnished " 
to tho " Morning Star " by gentlemen whom, with admirable delicacy, 
he calls Mr. Gough's "employers." However that may bo. of two 
things we are well assured, viz : that our contemporary never publishes 
in its leading columns any opinions but its own, and that Mr. Gough 's 
'^ employers " are not likely to tell Dr. Lees what they do. Thou, Dr. 
Lees seldom refers to Mr. Gough except by way of derision as "the 



438 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

orator." This is unwise, for people will take it as showing pretty 
clearly where the shoe pinches. A distinguished man like Dr. Lees is 
no doubt entirely free from the small vice of envy, but it is only pru- 
dent to guard against appearances. But there is another portentous 
fact. The little pamphlet known as Mr. Gough's personal narrative 
was, it seems, written, not by Mr. Gough, but by Dr. Dix of Boston; 
— that is, Mr. Gough had the exceedingly good sense to avail himself 
of the assistance of a literary friend in writing his autobiography. 
Anything more. Dr. Lees? Yes. The memorial presented to Mr. 
Gough the other week, signed by three hundred names, was a "got up" 
affair ; and, between ourselves, so far from Mr. Gough having risen in 
estimation ever since he signed the pledge, "he relapsed again and 
again into the most degrading vice." Here we are fauiy brought to a 
pause. We took Dr. Lees for a man of honor. 

Our readers have doubtless heard something of the libel case of 
"Gough V, Lees." It is a long story, and we do not intend to go into 
details ; but its history throws light upon the letter on which we are 
commenting, and may be summed up in a few words. Between his first 
and second visit to this country, Mr. Gough was said to have expressed 
an opinion that the Main Law movement in the United States was a fail- 
ure. From that moment he was a marked man. When he arrived in 
England he offered explanation, tending to show that what he said 
had been misinterpreted or misrepresented. It is usually deemed 
courteous to accept such explanations, but Mr. Gough was not to be let 
off so easily. He was now taxed with falsehood as well as heresy 
and morality was invoked to put 'Hhe orator" down. Presently it was 
rumored that Mr. Gough was not so good a man as he seemed. Somebody 
somewhere had seen him stagger. He had turned sick at one of Dr. Lees's 
lectures. Dr. Lees himself found him one day on the sofa in a state less 
lively than the Doctor's. There were terrible suspicions in Dr. Lees's 
mind that his rival had recourse to opium and "honey dew" tobacco. 
At all events it was certain that Mr. Gough, some ten years before, had 
relapsed for a short time into intemperance. Wrought to a pitch of 
indignant virtue, Dr. Lees wrote to various gentlemen in different parts 
of the country a series of letters, which for coarseness, scurrility, cow- 
ardly inuendo, and vulgar insolence, were certainly unrivaled. One of 
these letters was most properly given up to Mr. Gough, and the conse- 
quence was an action in the Court of Queen's Bench. Here Dr. Lees 
had an opportunity of proving- his charges to the satisfaction of a jury, 
and if he had proved them he would have won a verdict. He was not 



AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGE, 439 

able to prove them. Dr. Lees was in court. He told his legal adviser 
to "do his best." His counsel thought that the " best " course was to 
retract charges which he could not prove. They were retracted accord- 
ingly, Dr. Lees sitting by, and a verdict with damages was given against 
him. What was the honorable course to pursue after such a trial? 
Certainly not to repeat the libel which had thus been solemnly with- 
drawn. Dr. Lees has taken another. The moment he was safely out 
of court, he repudiated the arrangement which had just been made in 
his name. He persisted in ascribing to his victim " moral guilt," on 
the score of alleged acts which he had utterly failed to prove, and now 
that Mr. Gough has left for the United States, we find Dr. Lees un- 
sheathing his weapons against an absent man, and repeating his old 
slanders. 

We have now done with Dr. Lees, but we have still a word or two 
to say on behalf of the movement which has the misfortune of not be- 
ing able to find a more amiable advocate. The temperance cause is be- 
yond the reach of patronage. It has been winning its way for thirty 
years past, through good report and evil report, till at length the bene- 
fits it has wrought, not only among the working-classes but among all 
ranks of society, have placed it among the most respected and most val- 
uable agencies of the present day. If it had done nothing besides call- 
ing into existence a host of volunteer workers in the cause of philan- 
thropy from the humblest ranks of life, many of whom have risen to dis- 
tinction for their eloquence and ability as professed advocates, it would 
have rendered no common aid to the intellectual progress of the age. 
We ask those who are tempted to deride the temperance movement to 
pause till they have surveyed the tens of thousands whom it has re- 
claimed from vice, the families it has snatched from starvation and crime, 
and the wretched receptacles of misery which it has transformed into 
happy homes; and if, after this, they can still point a sarcasm at the 
agency which has achieved those marvels of beneficence, their taste is 
little to be envied. 

• •••*•••••• 

We will say no more than that the welfare of the common cause re- 
quires the cessation of jealousy and strife. An army divided against 
itself will never win, and advocates who employ their talents in black- 
balling one another, will scarcely succeed in making converts. A cause 
is but indifferently served by men whose official zeal is uniformly un- 
civil; and it will be found, in the long run. that tlie most oftieieut 
talent works all the better for being swayeij by charity and candor. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

Fete at Sudbrook Park — Soiree at George Cruiksliank's — Edinburgh — 
Orkney Islands — Absence of Trees — Trip to Sanday — Visit to Paris 
— Pumpkin Pie — Drunkenness in Wine-Growing Countries — Ge- 
neva — Mayence — Vevay — Mont Blanc — Glaciers — The " Dreadful 
Doll" — Cologne — Relics — Visit to Ireland — Last Meeting in London 
— Bible Presentation — Our Departure. 

Leaving this unpleasant episode, I turn to the more 
agreeable recollections of my experience in Great 
Britain ; and having anticipated in my narrative, the 
time of the trial, will return to the date of our arri- 
val in London. 

We remained resting at Norfolk Street, visiting 
friends, and sight-seeing, till August 10th, when we 
attended a fete given at Sudbrook Park, Richmond, 
and were guests of Dr. Ellis, who very kindly threw 
open his beautiful grounds for a gala day to the 
friends of temperance, when I received a cordial wel- 
come ; and as it is not my intention, in the remain- 
ing pages of this book, to chronicle the fetes, break- 
fasts and entertainments that were given, I shall omit 
some, and briefly allude to others; but must not for- 
get that on Friday evening, July 31st, we attended a 
soiree given by George Cruikshank, at his house in 
Mornington Place, and no pleasure-gathering was 
more thoroughly enjoyable; we are glad to number 
him, with his noble wife, among our dearest friends 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 441 

in England. He is a man whom none can know 
without loving 5 and we can attest the truthfulness 
of the statement that^ "among the supporters of the 
temperance cause, at public meetings, there is not 
one whose speeches abound with greater common 
sense, or with more happy and amusing observations 
on the subject in its various bearings." 

The name of George Cruikshank will be known to 
posterity as an artist, by his inimitable etchings, and 
as the prince of living humorists ; but his name will 
ever be held in esteem, as a moral reformer, whose 
wit and humor have always been enlisted, and exer- 
cised on the side of virtue. In private, he is simply 
delightful, and one of the most valuable additions to 
my library, is a collection of his etchings I have been 
gathering for years, now numbering nearly twelve 
hundred, which I hope to make yet more complete. 

On the 12th of August, we all paid a visit to 
Houghton, and were entertained by Mr. George 
Brown, and Potto Brown, spending our time delight- 
fully there, till the 25th, when I ran up to London 
for the first speech in Exeter Hall, returning next 
day to Houghton, and remaining there till the 31st, 
when we went to Manchester, visiting the ^*Art 
Treasures" on exhibition and holdins; a meetino; in 
Free Trade Hall, then on to Preston, reaching Edin- 
burgh on September 3d. We took our old lodgings 
at the Wavorly, and looked about for a "flat," — that 
is, a suit of rooms on one floor, — the houses in Scot- 
land, many of them, being divided into flats, with 
apartments for a fiimily on each floor, a stairway from 
the street being common to all. We moved into ITS 
Princes Street, and commenced housekeeping; Mrs. 



442 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

Knox, her daughter, and sister, with Mr. Gould, re- 
maining at home, while we made our peregrinations 
on lecturing tours through Scotland. 

Our first, was to the Orkney Islands, taking the 
steamer from Aberdeen, to Kirkwall on the "Main 
Island." One peculiarity there, was the absence of 
trees. I believe there are a dozen trees on this island, 
but none on the others; and I found persons there 
w^ho had never seen a tree. I remember meeting a 
lady wiio was married from the Shetlands, where she 
was born, and when brought into the region of trees, 
complained that she could not breathe, and longed 
for the open sky, where she would not feel smothered, 
as she did by the foliage. 

We returned by way of Wick, Dornoch and Inver- 
ness, to Edinburgh. We traveled from Wick to In- 
verness in the mail coach, and had for a fellow-passen- 
ger a drunken lord, who offered us whisky, and was 
very offensive till he got stupidly drunk and went to 
sleep. He was altogether a disagreeable companion. 
Lords and commoners are on a level when drunk, 
whatever may be the distinction when sober.^ 

We remained in Scotland till November 27th, when 
we ran up to London for ^yq lectures in Exeter Hall. 
Keturning to Scotland, we finished the year in Edin- 
burgh. On January 4th, we went to Broughty Ferry, 
and visited the venerable Dr. Dick, the author of "The 
Christian Philosopher," and other valuable works of 
like character, who gave me some autographs. On 
the 18th, we removed to London, taking Chester, 
Liverpool and Coventry on our way. We had taken 
furnished apartments, only finding plate and linen. 
We arrived in London on the 23d, to fulfill the eight 

* See note at the end of this Chapter, and illustration on page 475. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 443 

months' engagement in England, and went into a fur- 
nished house, at No. 4 South Parade, Trafalgar Square, 
Brompton. I worked steadily in different parts of the 
country till June 9th, when we returned to prepare 
for the trial, which came off on the 21st ; rested at 
home till the 5th of July, when we visited our dear 
friend, Samuel Bowly, at Horsepools ; then to Hough- 
ton, where we spent another delightful week ; from 
there to Sherwood Hall, with the dear family of Wil- 
liam Wilson — now broken up and separated by his 
death. After that, we spent a week with Joseph 
Tucker's family, at Pavenham Bury, and returned to 
London, July 24th ; rested there, visiting friends, till 
August 4th, when, thoroughly recruited, we left for 
Manchester ; then to Wales ; back again to London ; 
afterwards through Leeds and Darlington to Edin- 
burgh. 

On the 18th of September, we went again to the 
Orkney Islands, and after remaining at Kirkwall for 
two days, I went in an open boat to the island of 
Sanday. I never experienced such terrific winds in 
my life. Coming np from the boat to the house 
where I was entertained, I could scarcely keep my 
footing. I felt alarmed, lest I should be blown away, 
and complained of the strength of the wind. "Oh!" 
laughed my stalwart guide, "This is nought, only a 
puff. Why, man, the wind sometimes sweeps our 
whole harvest into the sea." Their houses are low, 
and built of solid stone. They look much weather- 
beaten. 

The next day the wind seemed to lull, but I was 
glad to get back to Kirkwall. In the night the wind 
"got up," as they term it, and it nearly got me up, 
28 



444 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHX B. GOUGH. 

for its power was beyond anything I had before con- 
ceived, and the boat in which I had made the trip to 
Sanday, was blown to Norway, three hundred miles 
distant, and had not returned when we left, eight 
days after, so I only escaped by one day, an involun- 
tary visit to Norway. 

I had engaged to go to the Shetlands, but on the 
day appointed for starting from Kirkwall, the wind 
blew such a hurricane, that we were compelled to re- 
main, and on the 29th we left those windy, treeless 
islands, with their warm-hearted, hospitable people, 
and reached Edinburgh on the 30th, somewhat worn 
by the trip. 

We continued in Scotland, keeping house, till Jan- 
uary 25th, making one trip to London for five lec- 
tures in December. These trips of four hundred and 
six miles were very pleasant. We would leave Edin- 
burgh at 8 o'clock, A. M., and reach London before 
7 o'clock, p. M., with a stop of half an hour for dinner, 
and two ten minutes stops at different stations. 

We were back in London, February 1st, and rented 
a furnished house at 8 Edith Grove, Brompton, visit- 
ing towns in various parts of the country, till July 
14th, when we came home for a little rest ; and hav- 
ing decided to visit the continent, left London on the 
22d, at noon, for Paris, arriving there at 11 o'clock, 
p. M., of the same day. 

r Americans are becoming as fimiliar with Paris as 
with New York, by personal experience, letters from 
friends, the public journals, and the tourists' pub- 
lished experiences ; and my description of the " city 
of luxury" would not be of interest, and is not 
needed. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHIS" B. GOUGE. 445 

We took rooms at the Hotel de Louvre. The next 
morning we sallied out for exploration, and " did " the 
" lions/' as rapidly as one week would permit. We 
obtained our meals at a restaurant in the '' Palais 
Eoyal " for the first two days, but afterward found our 
way to Madame Busques', who then kept a small eat- 
ing-house, famous for American cookery. On her 
sign were the words, " Specialte de Pumpkin Pie," and 
very delicious we found them ; during our stay in 
Paris, we patronized Madame B usque and her pump- 
kin pie. 

I had heard so much of the sobriety of wine-grow- 
ing countries, and so many propositions to introduce 
wine in this country as a cure for drunkenness, that I 
determined to make what personal observations I 
might be able, during a very brief sojourn on the 
continent. On the Boulevards and the Champs 
Elysees, we saw no more drunkenness than in Broad- 
way or Fifth Avenue ; but in the narrow by-streets, 
back of the main thoroughfares, I discovered as many 
evidences of gross dissipation, as in Baxter Street, 
New York, or Bedford Street, Philadelphia. 

I took a survey of several of the low cabarets, and 
found the same bloated or haggard faces, the same 
steaming rags, the same bleared and blood-shot eyes, 
the same evidence of drink-soaked humanitv in its 
degradation, as in any of the grog-shops in the 
United States. In Geneva, — the same; we were kept 
awake by the bacchanalian revels of intoxicated 
men in the streets nearly all night. In Yovay, I saw 
more evidences of drunkenness than in anv town of 
its population in our country. In Mayence, a fair 
w^as held while we were there, and I saw more 



446 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

drunken men on the street, and in the square, than 
I believe were to be seen on the streets, during the 
whole five days of the "Peace Festival" in Boston. 
In Basle, and in Cologne, it was the same, and my 
impressions are, from personal observation, (not very 
extensive,) that drunkenness prevails in the wine- 
growing countries, to as great an extent, as in any 
portion of the United States that I have visited. 

My friends told me I should be charmed with Paris; 
but so far from that, I disliked it. I would not be a 
resident of Paris, with my present convictions, for a 
fortune. There is, I am aware, delightful society — 
refined, elegant, moral. Christian ; but to me, the 
moral atmosphere of Paris did not seem conducive to 
spiritual health ; and it certainly would require spe- 
cial grace to preserve a vigorous spiritual life there. 
I do not judge others, but I breathed more freely as 
we took our departure. The city is beautiful, — yes, 
magnificent, and well worthy of all admiration for its 
architecture, its broad boulevards, its Madelaine, and 
its innumerable objects of interest. It is the delight 
of Americans. They never weary of "Paris" — beau- 
tiful " Paris " — and I have been criticised for want 
of taste; but the fact still remains — I do not like 
Paris. 

We left for Geneva on the 29th, took rooms at the 
Hotel de Metropoli, and remained over the Sabbath ; 
attended the English church, and, on Monday August 
1st, — a day long to be remembered — we started for 
Chamounix. It was a clear, beautiful morning. We 
had engaged a "voiture" to convey us there. Al- 
though the scenes of that day are in my memory so 
vividly, and I have passed through them again and 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 447 

again in my imagination, I cannot describe them. 
NeWj strange, startling, wonderful they were, and are 
to-day in their remembrance. 

Soon after noon, we arrived at Sallenche, and while 
waiting for dinner, and a change of our voiture, I 
strolled out with our two friends ; my wife, being 
weary, remained in the hotel. Standing together on 
the bridge, I said : " How new all this is to me — the 
mountains, valleys, waterfalls, picturesque villages, 
chalets — all new and strange ; the sky so clear and 
blue, the clouds so pure, — it is all glorious. What a 
peculiar cloud that is behind those hills ! so white, so 
clearly cut, it appears almost like — why, it is — yes — 
no — George — that is the motmtain — that is Mont 
Blanc ! I know it." And as I caught the first view 
of the monarch of the Alps, I trembled with excite- 
ment. With tears in my eyes, and my heart full, I 
turned away to hurry Mary out to enjoy it with us. 

We traveled the well-known route to the valley of 
Chamounix. As we passed through it, toward the 
village, the sun sunk behind the hills, and left us in 
shadow; but the gorgeous coloring of the snow-clad 
mountains filled us with delight. Ever-changing, 
ever-beautiful, — wave after wave of glory seemed to 
roll over the summit, growing more and more sub- 
dued, until, with one flash of exquisite beauty from 
the sun's last beam, the wonderful outline of moun- 
tain-tops stood relieved by the dark blue sky — white, 
cold, and chastely beautiful. 

We arrived at the "Hotel d'iVngleterre," where we 
stayed four days, (it should have been four weeks,) 
making excursions familiar to every tourist. The lirst 
day to Montanvert, the next to the summit of the 



448 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

Brevent, We started on this excursion with a guide, 
two mules, and our alpenstocks — more ornamental 
than useful, like the. dandy's walking-stick — but very 
pleasant souvenirs. At the Chalet de Planpras, we 
left our mules, and after a lunch of bread and milk, 
ascended by the "chimney,'* and climbing over rocks, 
and wading through snow, reached the summit, at an 
altitude of eight thousand feet. That was the grand- 
est view my eyes ever rested on. Behind us, Sal- 
lenche, with its bridge, far away the white ridges of 
the Yaudois, and Bernese Alps, were plainly seen; 
below us, Chamounix, like a nest of ant-hills; the 
glacier de Bossons; the glaciers d'Argenterre and Ta- 
conay; the river Arverion, rushing from its source at 
the foot of the Mer de Glace, and joining the Arve 
near the village, then like a stream of silver flowing 
through the valley; and before us, the Grand Mulcts; 
and higher up, the snow-capped king of the Alps, 
with the Dome de Goute, and the Aiguilles, silent in 
their grandeur. The stillness, so profound, was only 
broken by the crack of the ice in some glacier miles 
aw^ay. As we stood there, we could only say with 
David, as he surveyed the glory of the heavens, — 
"What is man, that Thou art mindful of him?" and, 
feeling our own insignificance, amid these stupendous 
works of creation, could but utter thanksgiving, that 
the Creator of these wonders, the Framer of this Uni- 
verse is God — and "God is love;" and we, who are 
lost in wonder and awe at His works, may come to 
Him and say, "Our Father which art in Heaven." 

We visited the glacier de Bossons the next day, 
and made one general excursion to some points of in- 
terest, and left for Martigny by the "Tete Noir." 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 449 

Just before we entered the tunnel, we experienced a 
thunder-storm, which was fearfully grand* but we 
were wet to the skin, and hastened to the "Chalet" 
to change our clothing, and proceeded. I walked 
twenty-four of the twenty-six miles, and felt but lit- 
tle w^eariness. The mosquitoes in the valley were 
very annoying. 

On Saturday, the 6th, we left for Yevay ; arriving 
there, we took rooms at the Hotel du Lac, and re- 
mained four days. We visited the castle of Chillon, 
and, standing in the dungeon, by the pillars, were re- 
minded of Byron's "Prisoner of Chillon." At Ye- 
vay, Mr. Gould left us for a pedestrian tour, and we 
proceeded to Basle; then to Mayence, down the 
Rhine to Cologne, where I became weary of sight- 
seeing, and proposed our return home — which was 
acceded to ; and passing through Lisle, and Calais, we 
arrived at Edith Grove on the evening of Saturday, 
August 12th, having completed our continental tour 
in twenty-three days. 

When at Yevay, one of our party purchased a doll 
for her daughter, and that dreadful doll was my "bete 
noir;" for at every custom station, that wretched doll 
would be dragged out of the trunk by an official, either 
by the leg, the arm, or the head, and held up, as if in 
triumph, with such lifting of the eyebrows, shrugging 
of shoulders, gesticulation, and jabber, as almost drove 
me wild. I could only say, " What do you want ? — 
am I to pay again? — keep the doll, if you want it," 
and the officer would grasp the miserable tiling by 
the middle, and, holding it up, like some hard- won 
trophy, shake it in my flice, making " extremes meet," 
as the head and heels would strike tou'cther. and furi- 



450 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

ously storm at me, till I wished the doll had been 
drowned in Lake Leman, or could be endued with 
life, and paid for as a regular passenger. But I siu:- 
vived, and the doll was brought home. Should I 
ever travel again on the continent, and by any mis- 
fortune, or possibility, be induced to consent that a 
doll should be placed in my charge to convoy through 
the custom-houses, I give warning, that doll must 
be clothed ; for I never will again, submit to the in- 
dignity of an official shaking such a wretched shape- 
less thing in my face, for any consideration. 

At Basle, I walked out in the streets, and was de- 
lighted to hear about sixty students sing in the open 
square. It was very fine. 

In Cologne, we purchased — as every one does, or 
should do — some veritable "Eau de Cologne," and 
visited the Cathedral. We saw the skulls of ten 
thousand virgins — that is, we saw some skulls. The 
attendant showed us a small cracked jar, carefully 
enclosed in a case, lined with crimson velvet, and told 
us that was one of the jars the Saviour filled with 
wine at the marriage of Cana. My wife turned away, 
and he said, with a shrug, "Americaine — hah! not 
moosh like relique." 

This '^ relic" reminded me of the sword that was 
exhibited as Balaam's sword, with which he slew the 
ass. 

One of the spectators said: "But Balaam did not 
have a sword 5 he only wished for one." 

"Ah!" cried the showman, "this is the sword he 
wished for." 

Should I ever visit Europe again, I hope to see 
more of the continent. I can only give my first im- 



AUTOBIOGKAPHT OF JOHIT B. GOUGH. 451 

pressionSj and am not qualified to describe the peo- 
ple, their customs, or habits, with accuracy, from so 
brief and rapid a tour. 

We remained at our home in London till August 
30th; then I commenced my work, and continued 
steadily in England till October 3d, when w^e crossed 
to Dublin — our first visit to Ireland. We passed at 
once to Belfast, delivering four lectures there, and 
two in Londonderry, when we returned to Dublin for 
three lectures. We were very kindly entertained by 
Eev. John Hall, — now Eev. Dr. Hall of New York 
City, — who, with his excellent lady, made our visit 
there very pleasant. We proceeded to Cork for two 
lectures, then back to Belfast, and from there to Glas- 
gow, remaining in Scotland till December 3d, when 
we bade farewell to the "land o'cakes," and entered 
on the last few months of our engagement in England. 

We made our farewell visit to Dundee, on Novem- 
ber 5th, where we had gained many friends, of w^liom I 
am constantly reminded by a chaste silver inkstand, 
— presented to me on my first visit, — w^hich now 
stands, both useful and ornamental, on my library 
table. 

We visited Perth on the 10th, Aberdeen the 14th, 
15th, and 19th ; then by Stranraer, Wigton, and Cas- 
tle Douglas, to Waterbeck, — that being the last place 
in Scotland where I spoke, excepting the farewell 
speech and soiree in Glasgow, February 21, and 22, 
1860, — and from there, direct, to Loudon. 

About the last of September, Mr. George Gladwin, 
having arrived in London, to pursue his studies as an 
artist, and being lonely in that great city, called on 
us. I met him at the door, and bade him welcome ; 



452 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

for some time he was an inmate of our family there. 
We formed a strong attachment to him then, which 
has increased year by year, and he is now one of our 
most intimate and valued friends — always welcome ; 
he is "one of us." 

I continued the next year in England till February 
20th, when we went to Glasgow for a farewell ; then 
to Ireland for eighteen days ; back to England, giv- 
ing farewell addresses, and visiting friends till the last 
meeting in London, on Wednesday, August 8th, when 
we left for Liverpool, giving the last lecture in Great 
Britain, in Concert Hall, on the 10th, and embarking 
on the steamer Arabia, for home, on the 11th of 
August, 1860. 

My impressions of Ireland I hope to give on a future 
page. 

I wish particularly to allude to the last meeting 
in London. Several American friends were present, 
among them. Rev. Dr. Cheever, and Hon. Ichabod 
Washburn of Worcester. Those who had sig-ned the 
pledge in Exeter Hall, had subscribed for a Bible, to be 
presented on the last evening I should lecture there. 
I had spoken ninety-five times in that Hall, and on 
the ninety-sixth and last, the Bible was presented. 

It was one of the largest audiences I had met there. 
It was very exciting to me, and I was more nearly 
overcome, than I remember ever to have been on any 
other occasion. My dear friend, George Cruikshank, 
presided; Judge Payne, of the Court of Quarter Ses- 
sions, was appointed to present the Bible; my first 
English friends, true, tried, and faithful, were there ; — 
dear Tweedie, Campbell, Howlett, the brothers John 
and Joseph Taylor, Spriggs, Hugh Owen, — with many 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 4o3 

others from the London societies, and from the Prov- 
inces. 

When the Bible was presented, I rose to reply, and 
no school-boy, on his first appearance, conld have felt 
more embarrassed. I knew not what to say. At 
last, I said: ^'My dear friends, as I look at this splen- 
did testimonial of your good will — rich in morocco 
and gold — beautiful as a work of art and skill — I 
think of another book, a little one, broken, torn, rag- 
ged, and imperfect, — you would hardly pick it up in 
the street; but to me, precious as is your gift to-night, 
more precious is that little book. On the illuminated 
fly-leaf of this, I read: — ^Presented August 8, 1860, 
to John B. Gough, on his leaving England for Amer- 
ica, by those only, who signed the pledge after hear- 
ing him in Exeter Hall, London.' On the brown, 
mildewed fly-leaf of the other book, are these words : 
' Jane Gough, born August 12, 1776. John Gough, 
born August 22, 1817. The gift of his mother, on 
his departure from England for America.' Two gifts 
and two departures!" 

As I began to review the past experiences since I 
left home, thirty-one years before, the flood of recol- 
lections came over me, combined with the tender 
associations connected with farewell, and I stammered, 
became nervous, and unable to proceed. As I stood 
there, the unshed tears filling my eyes, Thomas Irv- 
ing White rose, and taking me by the hand, said: 
'^ God bless him ! Give him three cheers." And the 
audience started to their feet, and with waving of 
hats, and handkerchiefs, gave them with a will. That 
unsealed the fountain, and I bowed my head and cried 
like a very boy. 



454 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

Mr. Tabraham was called on to pray, and afterward, 
the exercises were continued, and I told them that 
this splendid book should occupy an honored place 
in my home ; but the little old battered Bible of my 
mother should lie by its side. And there they do lie, 
on a table procured for the purpose — the two books 
— to remain together, as mementos of the past, and 
the realities of the present, till God shall call me. 

The first two years in Great Britain, I delivered 
438 lectures, and traveled 23,224 miles ; the last 
three years, 605 lectures, and 40,217 miles; making 
1,043 public addresses, and 63,441 miles travel. 

On the morning of our departure, several hundred 
friends assembled at the " London and North-western " 
station. George Cruikshank brought me a painting 
of a scene in the Life of Joe Grimaldi. I prized it 
for the artist, and, because it is, I believe, the only 
painting in the United States from his pencil. 

The Earl of Shaftesbury sent a pocket edition of 
the Psalms, with the following note : 

^^Dear Mr. Gough, — It would give me mucli pleasure to see you 
again, and to hear you again ; but under the extreme pressure of busi- 
ness, both on you and on me, this is, I fear, impossible. May God be 
with you, now and forever, in all your labors and prayers for the ad- 
vancement of Christ's kingdom. Yours truly, Shaftesbury. 

" Pray accept a little book for the pocket, the contents, and nothing 
else, make it valuable." 

Many brought me loving testimonials, and scores 
of letters were placed in my hands, and amid the 
hearty "God bless you's" and a warm clasping of 
hands, we left those with whom we had been in pleas- 
ant and constant communion for three years. 

Before I turn to the record of my remaining work 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 455 

in this country, I desire, as far as space will permit, 
to give some impressions received during my ^yq 
years' residence in Great Britain. I shall be com- 
pelled to pass by a large amount of material collected 
during my explorations in London, — much to my re- 
gret, — or I should swell my book far beyond the 
bounds prescribed, and perhaps prove tedious to my 
readers. 

Note to Page 442, — I once saw a wretched, battered, drink-soaked speci. 
men, curiously wedged in a barrel, delighting the spectators hy waving a di- 
lapidated hat, and shouting, " Hurra for our glorious rights and privileges ! " 
A gentleman present sent me a sketch of the scene as I described it, which is 
inserted on page 475. 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

Society in Great Britain — Toadyism — The Nobility — The State Dinner 
— Aristocracy of Blood — Aristocracy of "Wealth— Temptations In- 
cident to these Classes — Social Evil in Great Britain — Lines of Di- 
vision — " Gentility " — " Only a Mechanic " — English Factories — The 
Harvest Home — " Beer in Moderation " — English Sports — Benches 
for the " Colic " — Condition of the Laboring Classes. 

Society in Great Britain, is divided into three 
classes, — nobility, gentry, (among whom rank the 
clergy,) and the public generally. These again are 
divided, and sub-divided, to an almost illimitable ex- 
tent. • My work brought me constantly in contact 
with the public generally, often with the gentry, and 
very seldom with the aristocracy. Though the rever- 
ence for mere rank is dying out, still there is a def- 
erence paid to ^^my lord;" and to be seen on the 
sunny side of Pall Mall in the height of the season, 
arm in arm with a live lord, would repay some men 
for any amount of toadyism. 

Though we in a republican country ridicule the 
toadyism and flunkeyism of Great Britain, there is 
just as much here as there. Many Americans would 
feel flattered by attention from a lord, and bow as 
low to the title as any in England. Indeed, I think 
among many circles in our country, there is full as 
much real snobbery, as is to be found anywhere. 
How much planning and maneuvering there is, to*se- 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOmq" B. GOUGH. 457 

cure the- presence of a lord at the fashionable parties 
in New York, and other cities, we all know. 

I have heard of the great affability of the nobility, 
but I must confess, that in my limited experience of 
them I have found, with some exceptions, an inde- 
scribable sort of "touch me not," a kind of "you may 
look but you must not touch." Perhaps it was ow- 
ing to my education and early experiences, but I 
never could feel as entirely at my ease with a lord as 
with a commoner, I can better convey my meaning 
by an extract from a popular writer: "Aristocracy 
appears in the form of self-sufficiency; the aristocrat 
needs no other human being, he has everything in 
himself. Whatever comes to him is accepted gra- 
ciously, but must never assert its claim to the charac- 
ter of a necessity." 

Some of our Americans have recorded their delight 
at the affability of "My lord," when the same cour- 
tesy received from an untitled gentleman, would have 
passed unnoticed, perhaps. I was always treated 
kindly by them, and have no fault to find ; but my 
experience has been very limited. The Earl of 
Shaftesbury, and some other noblemen, were very 
kind to me, and I was invited to call on them, which 
I never could find an opportunity of doing, and there- 
fore cannot tell how much I should feel at home with 
them in their OAvn family circle ; but I have ever 
found that Avhen an Englishman invites you to his 
house, while there — however stifl' he may be else- 
where — he becomes the courteous ho^t. 

I was at one time the invited o-uest of a o-entlonian, 
not himself a nobleman, but allied to the nobility, and 
at whose house I met three or four titled persons. 



458 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

He had been a colonel in the army — (a colonel's uni- 
form gives the wearer the entree to the best society, 
and the difference between a colonel and a private 
soldier, is almost immeasurable). I felt embarrassed 
when first introduced, by a footman in livery, to the 
drawing-room; but that soon wore off, and we went in 
to dinner. A right honorable lady, with two fingers 
of her white glove resting on the sleeve of my coat, 
was escorted by me to the dining-room. When there, 
all my trepidation returned, so I thought I would do 
as others did, and I got on tolerably well ; but that 
almost interminable dinner! how rejoiced I was when 
it was over! I did not like the footmen. This was 
nearly my first experience of them, but I became 
more accustomed to them afterwards. In fact, I have 
heard persons say, they stood more in awe of the 
flunkey than of the master. Two carriages were 
filled, and we started for the lecture. On our return, 
the conversation became quite animated, I answering 
all the questions I could about America, when the 
colonel said : " By-the-bye, Mr. Gough, I believe your 
father was a soldier." 

"Yes, sir." 

" In what regiment ? " 

" The Forty-eighth and Fifty-second Light In- 
fantry." 

" Ah ! " said he, " the Fifty-second — my old regi- 
ment. In what year was your father in the Fifty- 
eecond ?" 

" I do not know exactly the year, but he was at 
Talavera, and Badajos with the Fifty-second." 

"Yes, but that was before my time. "Was your 
father ever at Shorncliffe?" 



AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 459 

" Yes, -sir. I know he was at ShornclifFe, for he 
married my mother when his regiment was lying 
there, and I remember going to see him at Shornchffe, 
when I was a boy." 

" Then I was your father's Colonel. What was 
your father's rank in the army?" 

"Private soldier, sir." 

I looked closely at him, to see if his countenance 
fell, — -but no ; smiling, he held out his hand, and said : 
^^ I am glad to welcome a son of one of my old sol- 
diers to C Hall," and treated me with as much 

courtesy, apparently, as though I had been the son of 
an officer. 

That was a true gentleman, who, by his courtesy, 
relieved me from all embarrassment 

There are those in Great Britain, who are not of 
the nobility, yet are prouder than many of them, and 
almost look with contempt at some of the newly- 
created nobles. We were at one time guests of one 
of these old families, who boasted that they had been 
in possession of their lands for a thousand years — an 
old Saxon family, dating before William the Con- 
queror, who, said the old lady, was "an old rascal, 
who took from us the greater portion of our lands." 
They trace their ancestors back for ten centuries, and 
down by an unbroken succession to the present time. 
Standing in the grand old hall, hung round with ar- 
mor, and emblazoned with coats of arms, I asked 
when it was built, and was told, "Just before the ac- 
cession of William, nearly eight hundred years since," 
"but," said the gentleman, "the south wing is quite 
modern; it is but a hundred and fiftv vears since 
that was built." Much of the old style was kept up 
29 



4G0 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

in this family. When dinner was announced, the 
butler, in plain clothes, looking very much like a 
parson, entered and presented to the gentleman on 
a salver, a bouquet in a silver holder, who at once 
presented it to his wife, who took it with her to 
the table. Then, in the morning we were invited 
to the lady's boudoir, where she sat in state, and 
two maidens, one sewing and the other reading, re- 
minded us of the legends of the olden time. These 
were plain Mr. and Mrs., yet holding state and po- 
sition, 'with such families as the Marquis of West- 
minster. 

Theh division- of society into sets and circles, is 
similar to ours, but the lines are drawn closer, and 
are more clearly defined. We have an aristocracy of 
wealth, they of blood. Money will not purchase ad- 
mission to the inner circle of the so-called higher 
class ; blood and birth will. Here, money is the key 
to unlock the door, and an entrance to almost any 
circle may be obtained by it. Of course, in speaking 
of the two aristocracies of wealth and blood, I do not 
forget that grand aristocracy of intellect and moral 
worth, recognized as the true aristocracy the world 
over. But how many men in this country are not 
only tolerated, but received with open arms by fash- 
ionable society, simply and solely because they are 
rich. They have no other recomAiendation but the 
length of their purse — who, if they were poor, would 
be thrust with scorn and contempt from the threshold 
of that circle which now embraces them! And in 
England, the nobleman, or man of rank, is often ap- 
plauded for, or at all events tolerated in, an offense 
against society, when a mechanic, or a laborer, would 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 4G1 

be driven into a jail. Their worship of rank is equal 
to our worship of mammon. 

One day Boswell assured Dr. Johnson that if he 
was invited on the same day to dine with the first Duke 
in England, and the first genius, he should hesitate 
which to choose. Johnson said : " To be sure, sir, if 
you were to dine only once, and it were never to be 
known where you dined, you would choose rather to 
dine with the first man of genius; but to gain respect, 
you should dine with the first Duke in England ; for 
nine people out of ten you meet with, w^ould have 
a higher opinion of you for having dined with a 
Duke, and the great genius himself would receive 
you better, because you had been with the great 
Duke." 

There is a fascination that is perfectly astonishiug, 
and almost mysterious, in the approach even to mere 
acquaintance with the nobility. Occasionally a rich 
man makes his way into the charmed circle by mar- 
riage; but he cannot take the title belonging to his 
wife, and it will always be Mr. and Lady so-and-so. 
A genius may now and then be tolerated, and might 
be oftener, if genius could stoop to patronage ; but the 
spirit of aristocracy is essentially exclusive ; like the 
barber who shaved bakers, but turned up his nose at 
coal-heavers, they must draw the line somewhere. 

A great emperor once admitted an artist to liis 
presence before a nobleman. The latter complained ; 
the emperor replied: "T can make ten such noblemen 
to-morrow, but God alone can make an artist." 

Coppuck, the great electioneering agent of the Lib- 
eral party, said : " Give me a liberal lord, and 1 can 
do anything." 



462 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

A poor, faded, miserable woman, with some trace of 
beauty lingering in her face, in spite of a long career 
of sin, one day at a London police ofiB.ce was charged 
with assaulting a noble lord ! What was her crime ? 
She had waited for his lordship's coming out of his 
club, waited till long past midnight, cold and wretched, 
ragged, and starving, she had prayed his lordship for 
a shilling wherewith to purchase food and shelter for 
the night. What was her defense? Years and years 
ago, when she was very young, his lordship had 
wronged her foully. Of course with that wrong the 
mao-istrate had nothino; to do, and she was sent to 
jail; and her accuser is still honored; the sinner 
lives in his luxurious club, quaffs his costly wine, 
is cringed to, or looked up to as a pillar of society 
(rather a caterpillar), while she — the dishonored and 
discarded — her innocence and beauty blasted — walks 
the streets at midnight, is thrown away as a worth- 
less weed, rots and dies in work-house, hospital, or jail, 
or, not unlikely, in the turbid waters of the Thames, 
she vainly seeks the peace or oblivion denied her 
here. 

Most assuredly, I would not infer that the aristoc- 
racy are vile and vicious, or that evil is always to be 
traced to them. There are most noble Christian gen- 
tlemen among them, — true noblemen, in the highest 
sense of that term ; men who recognize the claims of 
humanity. Lord Shaftesbury and others, who spent 
whole nights in the haunts of vice and poverty, to 
relieve, and ameliorate the condition of the poor, and 
the outcast. But the nobility are exposed to strong 
temptation. The prayer of Agar, " Give me neither 
poverty nor riches," was a wise one ; for the very 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 463 

poor in their poverty, and the rich in their wealth, 
are exposed to temptation unknown to the more 
favored class, by whom this prayer is realized. 

It stands to reason, that if you set a class of men 
above all others in position, relieve them of responsi- 
bility in a great measure, teach them that they are 
the lilies of creation, who need "neither toil nor spin," 
it stands to reason, I say, that, when young and 
thoughtless, and their blood is hot, with means at their 
command to engage in dissipation, and to prevent 
detection, or to shield them when detected, — they 
should plunge into vice. 

Dr. Watts' lines, so familiar, are true, that 

"Satan finds some mischief still 
For idle hands to do." 

And equally true it is, that honest labor, with the 
hands or head, is the only condition of healthy life. 
Idle men are often vicious, and when idle men are 
noblemen in England, or wealthy men's sons in 
America, they often fall into vice, and thus it becomes 
fashionable. 

While I was in London, a testimonial was presented 
to a man who has dared perhaps more than any 
other, to make vice attractive. I speak of the man- 
ager and proprietor of the "Argyll Eooms," where 
music and dancing are carried on every night — " ad- 
mission, gentlemen one shilling, ladies free," and 
where no reputable Avoman enters ; rooms which for 
one year, the magistrates very properly refused to 
license. Actually, a lord presided at the dinner 
and presented the testimonial. No wonder London 
abounds in "Traviatas" in the parks, theaters, and 
fashionable streets. The terrible "social evil," like 



464 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHX B. GOUGH. 

everj^tliing else in London, is on tlie most gigantic 
scale; it is a question that can never be settled by 
figures; and so long as women can barely exist in 
virtuous industrv, — so long; as there are rich and 
fashionable men to sanction vice, — so long as young 
blood becomes fevered by the influence of strong 
drink, — so long as young men and women dare not 
marry, as their parents did, and bravely and nobly 
fight the battle of life, — so long will the social evil 
in England, and in this country, continue to be a social 
blot, tainting society — a frightful source of sin and 
misery. 

In London, these things are carried on with some 
degree of method, by dancing saloons, tea gardens, 
^^ Highbury Barn," " Cremorne," the "Argyll" and 
"Holborn" casinoes, and many other places, almost 
solely devoted to the progress of vice; and in our 
following their example, we have, in one respect, 
gone far beyond them in the shameful exposures on 
the boards of our metropolitan theaters. 

All honor to Miss Olive Logan, for her fearless at- 
tack on this social outrage against decency. Much, 
very much is doing in London to remedy the evil, 
and when I come to speak of my experience in the 
great metropolis, I shall allude to these efforts. 

One word more : It may be thought that I judge 
the aristocracy of England too harshly. I did not 
intend to judge them at all, but simj)ly to write w^hat 
I believe to be the truth; and I must refer here to 
one who is at the head of all the aristocracy of Eng- 
land, and for whom I can pray as heartily as any of 
her subjects, "God save the Queen." As wife, wid- 
ow, daughter, and mother, without reproach, — influ- 



AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHX B. GOUGH. 465 

encing to a large extent, as the purest woman who 
ever sat on the British throne, the conduct of so 
many by whom she is surrounded, and by whose in- 
fluence the court of England has become the purest 
court in Europe. 

Among the gentry — composed of landed proprie- 
tors, magistrates, clergymen, retired merchants, and 
others — you find division, and sub-division lines care- 
fully drawn; for while the merchant, who sells at 
wholesale, or transacts business in an office, if it is 
only "seven by nine," is invited, no retail trader or 
shop-keeper is admitted to their circle. They have 
an abhorrence of the shop, though they have been 
styled "a nation of shop-keepers." 

I was once invited to a dinner party; in conversa- 
tion with a friend I asked: "Is Mr. K. to be there?" 

"0, no! he's a shop-keeper," was the reply. 

"But," I said, "he is a justice of the peace." 

"I know he is ; but he is a shop-keeper." 

" He is a splendid fellow, and what has the shop to 
do with the invitation ? " 

" I know that he will not be invited." 

Determined to push the point, I said : " He comes 
from a very respectable family : his father farms his 
own lands." 

" That is true ; but he is a shop-keeper, and stands 
behind the counter." 

" He is wealthy, talented, popular, and president of 
one or two associations." 

"I know all this, my dear fellow, but it won't do. 
If, by the votes of the people he should boconie his 
worship the mayor, or the lord pi'ovost of the bor- 
ough, he would by virtue of his oifice sit with gentle- 



466 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

men ; but as a simple shop-keeper, however popular 
he may be, he would not be tolerated." 

"Ah! I see — but Mr. M. is to be there." 

"Oh! yes, but he has left the shop, and is secretary 
to an institution, and therefore is a professional gen- 
tleman now." 

I said, "But I am invited — a book-binder by trade, 
the son of a private soldier, and a temperance lecturer." 

"That's it," said my friend, "you are a professional 
man. Military officers, and professional men are in- 
vited, but not a mere shop-keeper, — unless he is a 
foreigner, and then we are not supposed to know 
anything of his position, only his respectability." 

That term respectable is a favorite one. "Is he 
respectable?" "A most respectable audience." "A 
very respectable person." But the term is hard to 
define. When a witness was asked how he knew a 
certain person was respectable, he replied: "Because 
he drives a gig." And another stated that he knew 
" she was respectable, because she carried a parasol 
and wore a wail." 

One evidence of respectability in certain sets is, to 
go to the sea-side in the summer ; and some who can- 
not afford it, draw down their blinds and attend a dif- 
ferent place of worship, to make their neighbors be- 
lieve they are at the sea-side during the season. 

Even at the watering-places, these lines of division 
are drawn; for at the principal summer resorts, such 
as Scarboro,' Brighton, and Kamsgate, there are gen- 
erally three seasons, one for nobility, one for gentry, 
and one for the public generally, — who take it first, 
say in July, — gentry in August and September, and 
the nobility from October to the Christmas holidays; 



AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 467 

and the ^ame lodgings can be obtained for half the 
price in July, that is charged in October. 

The term " genteel/' is a favorite also. Great im- 
portance is attached to gentility : " Let us be genteel 
or die," was a pet expression of Mrs. Richley. A 
fashionable lady, with her daughters, on approaching 
the church door, and finding she could not enter, ow- 
ing to the crowd, exclaimed: "Well my dears, we 
have done the genteel thing." Better break the com- 
mandments than violate the laws of gentility. This 
gentility is wonderfully hard to define, and some who 
live under its sway, and bow to its slightest demands, 
cannot tell exactly what it is. 

At my lectures, and at public entertainments, the 
charges were graduated according to the social posi- 
tion of persons who occupied the seats, — except when 
entertainments were given exclusively for a certain 
class — first class, ^ve shillings, or half a crown, as it 
might be ; second class one shilling, and working 
classes sixpence. 

We have hardly arrived at the point of separating 
the working classes from all others in this w\^y, though 
we shall probably come to it, I fear, by-and-bye ; but 
it would not do now. 

I once attended a concert, and was attracted by the 
almost dazzling appearance of a gentleman with a 
lady in the reserved seats; — white kid gloves, diamond 
studs, what the English w^ould call a '^ natty" opera 
glass, and dressed in the highest style. 

At first, I thought he was "somebody in particular," 
till on lookinor at him more closelv, I recoonized the 
gentleman who had measured me for two dozen shirts, 
but a few days before. I was glad to see him there, 



468 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

and I trust the day will be far distant, when honorable 
industry shall not be permitted to sit side by side 
with honorable wealth and leisure. 

But for all that, our fashionables and our would- 
bes, seem to grow more contemptuous in their treat- 
ment of work and w^orkers. "Only a mechanic," — 
yes, my dainty madam, "only a mechanic;" a more 
honorable position than to be gambling in stocks, or 
shaving notes for the needy at high interest. Their 
fingers may be soiled by hard work, but far better 
that, than to be soiled by usury. Perhaps your father, 
or grandfather pursued the honorable calling of rag- 
picking in the streets, — and none the worse for that; 
or perhaps he made a fortune by petroleum compa- 
nies, and swindled poor women out of their hard- 
earned savings by bogus oil-claims, — very much the 
worse for that. He may have carried the hod, and 
been quite respectable and honorable ; but if he sold 
rum to the wretched victim of drunkenness, he could 
hardly have been that. 

Your mother or grandmother may have opened 
oysters for a living, or worked in the kitchen when 
young, — both honorable employments, and you are 
none the worse for that. The money earned in hon- 
orable employment, however humble, is clean. " Only 
a mechanic," yes, only. I had rather be a hard-handed 
mechanic, with the marks of toil on me, than the per- 
fumed useless dandy upon whom you lavish smiles, 
while you have nought but contempt for the honest, 
hard-working mechanic. Yes, young lady, I would 
prefer your contempt to your smiles, or friendship, if 
you would despise me, because I was a w^orker, rather 
than an idler. 



AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 4G9 

'^ Oh, she lives out ! " That is enough. Not only 
men and women (if they deserve the names) who 
through all their years, never step below the surface 
of life ; but Christian men and Christian women — 
or those who profess to be such — recognize the bar- 
rier which society has builded here. No matter how 
lovely or intelligent a young girl may be, — if she 
comes under this ban in any way, it all goes for 
naught. Daughters are educated to understand this, 
and they are apt pupils. Is it any marvel so many 
of them are helpless, and shallow, and incapable of 
true living ? Is it any marvel there are so few women 
capable of supporting themselves when left destitute ? 
Every young girl can see, that working for one's 
living, if a woman, puts a brand on her forehead ; 
and almost any amount of personal discomfort will 
be endured in a home, rather than it should be reme- 
died by her own work. And yet, which is wiser — to 
be useless and idle, a burden on other hands, or at 
best a consumer of wealth another has earned, — or to 
work, either with hands or head, and so prove the 
right to life ? Which is nobler, to sit in the pride of 
ease, when, by your contempt for labor, work grows 
heavier, morally at least, for others ; or, by putting 
hands to it, add a weight of worth to your own life, 
and roll from the lives of others a portion of the bur- 
den, which at the best, is heav}^ to bear ? Which is 
nearer true ? Which has more of royalty in it, idle- 
ness or work ? 

You who scorn the workers in our world forgot, 
perhaps, that labor has on it the kingly seal of God's 
approval, — cannot see, perhaps, how poor and meager 
your souls become, in the very exercise of the scorn 



470 AUTOBIOGRAPHT OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

you are so ready and eager to show in your faces and 
hearts, — do not understand perhaps, what must still 
be true, — that the highest angel can come nearer in 
sympathy to them than to you ; and that even the 
'^King of Kings" has assigned them a far higher 
place than you can ever attain. 

Again, we find division-lines drawn even among the 
working classes. The artisan, or skilled workman, 
the simple mechanic, and the laborer. Many me- 
chanics of the first class are intelligent, thinking men, 
well read in history, philosophy, and political econ- 
omy, sustaining their institutes, and debating clubs, 
and are becoming more and more each year a power 
in the country. 

In the manufacturing districts of Great Britain, 
there is much to deplore. No one can visit these 
districts without being struck by the contrast be- 
tween the operatives there and here. Go into a mill 
here, and you see the girls, as a general thing, neat 
and clean, healthy, morally and physically — bits of 
looking-glass placed on the walls, or posts, at intervals, 
and perhaps some young girl, in her short leisure 
time, "doing up her hair," or sitting for another to curl 
it. I speak of the mills in New England; with no 
others am I sufficiently familiar to describe them. 
There is no appearance of struggling against hope- 
less poverty, and the heavy burden of work, work, 
and no play. 

In many English factories, you see heated, half-clad 
figures, thin, clammy hands, and pallid faces, — girls, 
women, young lads, and men, — all alike in their 
gaunt, ghastly weariness. Out of the mill, you see 
abject slovenliness, only relieved occasionally by a 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 471 

faint attempt at smartness. Girls without bonnets, 
sometimes a shawl over the head from which thej 
have not picked the oily refuse that clings to them. 
In Scotland and Ireland, almost universally barefoot. 
In Lancashire, with those wooden-soled shoes, that 
make the peculiar and almost deafening clatter, clat- 
ter, w^hen the mill hands are let out. 

The factory operatives of twenty years ago, were 
a harder worked and less cared for class, than, per- 
haps, any in the country — except the miners. But 
both the miners and the mill hands, through the 
agency of great and good men, and their own increas- 
ing intelligence, have been relieved from much of 
the oppression that ground them down ; yet there is 
still great room for improvement, and we cannot look 
without feelings of pain, at the reports published by 
Mr. Clay, formerly chaplain of the house of correc- 
tion in Preston, of the ignorance of the Tower classes 
in Lancashire. The fact is, the working-classes are, 
as I have before intimated, very much separated from 
equal social intercourse with others. Occasionally, 
by the force of genius and fortuitous circumstances, 
a working man may force his way through the hard 
crust, to another strata of society. These are all 
chronicled — the world knows them : Stephenson, Dr. 
Livingston, Hugh Miller, Chantry, and others, — yes, 
many others; but compared with the great mass of 
the working classes of Great Britain, ver}^ few. 

There are advertisements of "lectures for the work- 
ing classes," "concerts for the working classes," 
"cheap entertainments for the working classes," "cot- 
tages for the working classes," etc., as if they were 
socially distinct and separate from all others. 



472 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

While you find many meclianics are intelligent, tlie 
mere laborer, especially the agricultural laborer, is, 
as a general thing, very ignorant. We are told that 
^^ nature is a great educator;" I do not believe it. 
Many of these men and women, who were born, 
reared, and live in the most lovely rural districts, 
where nature laughs in all the perfection of beauty, 
are among the most stupid, boorish, and unintellectual 
beings in human shape I ever met. Their employ- 
ment requires no thought; one is a ploughman, and 
does nothing but follow the plough; another a hedger 
and ditcher, etc. I have tried to converse with them, 
but found them wofully ignorant. The last words of 
a dying Lincolnshire boor, are recorded as, — "Wat 
wi' faath, and wat wi' the arth turning round the 
soon, and wat wi' the raalroads a fuzzen and a whuz- 
zen, I'm clean mooddled an bet." 

I was once invited to a Harvest Home, at a gentle- 
man's farm in a neighborhood where total abstinence, 
or " teetotalism," as they call it, was very unpopular. 
He had given no drink on the harvest field, for the 
first time, I believe, in the county, and had determined 
to provide the harvest dinner without beer or spirits. 
This created great excitement, and some opposition. 
The rector of the parish refused to be present, 
giving as a reason, there was to be no beer, and he 
would not countenance such new-fangled notions, — 
that it was unjust to the laborer, to deprive him of 
his beer. 

An honorable and reverend gentleman from another 
parish was present. The laborers assembled in a 
large tent, and sat down to a bountiful dinner of roast 
beef and plum-pudding, the servants of the family 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 473 

waiting Jon them. The master of the house, with in- 
vited guestSj were present, and really it was quite a 
show, to see the poor people eat. After the dinner, 
speeches were made. The honorable and reverend 
gentleman said, as nearly as I can recollect : " Men 
and women, I am glad to see you enjoy your dinner. 
Your master is consistent— he gives you no drink on 
the harvest field, and he gives you no drink at the 
dinner. I am not a teetotaler, I believe in beer, in 
moderation — strict moderation. In my parish, the 
farmers have arranged for a joint harvest home in 
a large barn. I will give you the arrangements, 
as agreed on by the fa^rmers : First, we shall all as- 
semble at twelve o'clock, and go to the church, to 
return tha^nks to Almighty God for the bountiful har- 
vest; after that we shall proceed to the barn, where 
plates will be laid for more than three hundred 
laborers; we shall provide beer in moderation — the 
allowance will be, two quarts of good ale for each 
man, and one quart for each bo}^, — which you will 
agree with me, will be in strict moderation ; after 
dinner, we have provided sports — good old English 
sports, in which all may engage." 

After his speech, I addressed them, and gave my 
opinions as to two quarts of good ale being modera- 
tion. When the speeches were over, the guests were 
invited to a grand dinner in the "Hall." I made 
excuses, and remained among the people who were 
gathered in little knots. I saw a very stolid-looking 
man, who had not sat down with the rest, and I said 
to him, ^^Do you belong to- the other parish?'' 

Pulling the front of his old hat, and looking very 
s^ieepish, he said, ^'Eess, zur." 



474 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHIS" B. GOUGH. 

^^ Shall you attend the Harvest Home there next 
week?" 

"Eess, znr." 

" Will you tell me what the sports will be, the par- 
son spoke of?" 

"Eess, zur." ' 

"Well, what are they?'' 

"Foost, they cloimb a greesy poal." 

"What's that?" 

" Thay greese ta poal, an theers a croas stick on top, 
wi a bag, an a shillin in ta bag, an thay cloimbs oop 
ta poal, an him as get ta shillin, has un." 

"Anything else?" 

"Eess, zur." 

"Canyon tell me?" 

"Eess, zur, thay haves a reace in zacks." 

"A race in sacks?" 

"Eess, zur, an it's reare vun — thay toies ta zacks 
roon thayer necks, an thay roons, an thay toombles. 
He ! he ! it's reare vun." 

" Anything more ? " 

"Eess, zur." 

"What is it?" 

"Thay roons a reace arter a pig wats greesed, an 
him as catches un has un." 

" Anything more ? " 

"Eess, zur." 

"Well, tell me." 

"Thay has a jackass reace, an nobody doan't ride 
his owan jackass — an that's awl thay has." 

All this was said in the most stolid manner; not 
the ripple of a smile, except when he said, "thay 
toombles." 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 477 

Quite a group had collected around us by this time, 
and I askedj " What wages do you get? " 

^^Aight shillin a week." 

'' Eight shillings ! Are you married ? " 

"Eess, zur." 

^^Have you any children?" 

"Eess, zur; foive." 

"Five children! do they earn anything?" 

"Eess, zur; ta biggest uns weeds ta wheat an 
scaers ta crows." 

"How much do they earn?" 

"A shillin a week." 

" Do you go to church ? " 

"Naw, zur." 

"Why do you not go to church?" 

" Oy sleeps ; oy's toired." 

"Can you read?" 

"Naw, zur." 

"Do you know your letters? " 

"Naw, zur." 

Then I said : " Men and women, I want to saj^ some- 
thing to you. In the country where I live, agricul- 
tural laborers do not work for eight shillings a week. 
Agricultural laborers where I live, can read and write ; 
some become parsons, some magistrates, others mem- 
bers of parliament, and some, governors;" (I could 
hear the "Laws! laws!" from my audience) "but" I 
continued, " agricultural laborers, where I come from, 
do not allow magistrates, parsons, and landed pro- 
prietors, to prescribe two quarts of ale as moderate 
drinking, and provide climbing greasy pok\^. running- 
races in sacks, and these sports you have told me of, 
for recreation ; and just as long as you submit to 
30 



478 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

such dictation, so long will you work for eight shil- 
lings a week." Then I gave them a few words of 
advice. 

As I turned away, I heard a woman say: "He talks 
to us, as thof we were hooman beans." 

Dickens, Thackeray, Kingsley, Conybeare, and other 
English writers, draw fearful pictures of the ignorance 
of this class of the people, in the rural districts of 
England. When visiting Bedfordshire — where Bun- 
yan lived, preached, and was imprisoned, and Cowper's 
residence, where he lived so long with Mrs. Unwin 
— I went with a party to see the church where Scott, 
the commentator, once preached; a woman aocompa- 
nied us to show us the place, and at every reply to 
our questions, with her arms folded, would duck down, 
for an attempt at a courtesy. I said to her once: 
"Please, ma'am, do not bob at me so, when I speak 
to you; I do not like it." We noticed a row of hard- 
lookins: benches, — remindino^ me of the seats in the 
old-fashioned New England school-houses, where they 
are worn smooth, excepting the knots, and I asked, 
"What are these benches for?" 

" Please, sir, they are for the school-children, sir." 

"And what do the school-children do on these 
benches?" 

" Please, sir, they gets the colic, sir." 

" The colic ! good gracious ! what do they get the 
colic for?" 

"Please, sir, they are obliged to, every Sunday 



morning, sir." 



" Well, well, I never heard of such a thing ; obliged 
to get the colic every Sunday morning?" 

" Yes, please, sir, all of them is obliged to get it. 



«r 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 479 

I must- confess that for a moment or two I had a 
vision of a set of wretched children on hard benches, 
in a high state of disturbance — when one of the 
party, laughing heartily, said : " She means they are 
compelled to learn the collect for the day, every Sun- 
day morning ; " and that was probably the extent of 
their religious education. 

Conybeare gives some curious questions and an- 
swers, at an examination of school-children by the rec- 
tor. The reply to the question "What is a church?" 
was, " A place wi' pews in." To the question "What 
is thunder?" Please, sir, isn't it the devil a-swear- 
ing?" The rector was a portly man, a fine specimen 
of what is called a good liver, and he asked the ques- 
tion, "What part of the human body is like a globe?" 
The young ones tittered — the question was repeated, 
when one boy blurted out, " Stomach, sir," to the dis- 
comfiture of the rector. 

Their whole system of education is defective, even 
if it were measured by the ability to read and write. 
Instruction in reading and writing, may be carried to 
a high point of excellence, without any knowledge 
being imparted worth the name of education. Then, 
to put children to the New Testament, as into a hard, 
barren field, in which they are to perform a piece of 
drudgery, is not giving them religious instruction, 
merely committing a certain number of verses to 
memory, will not open to their understanding, and 
affection the Book of Life. 

Mr. Clay told me that he found many who could 
fluently repeat texts learned, and even read the prin- 
ted characters in the Testament, utterlv unable to 
comprehend the sense of what they read ; and ho 



480 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOH^T B. GOUGH. 

showed me the result of his investigation, which was 
startHng. But I am not quahfied to give a disserta- 
tion on education. 

In Scotland, till very lately, the condition of the 
mere laborer was lamentable. I remember being at 
the house of a farmer, when a house-servant said to 
him : " One of the hmds wants to see you." On in- 
quiring what a hind was, they told me it was a farm- 
servant. In the barn-yard I saw a woman, bare- 
legged, with a frock made of coarse canvas coming 
just to her knees, cutting up turnips for the cattle 
with a spade. 

In Dowlais, Wales, I saw women in the brick-yard, 
carrying the material on their backs. A strap was 
brought over the shoulder, supporting a board, that 
rested edgeways in the small of the back. Their dress 
was simply a coarse frock. They received on the 
board a load of the wet clay, and ran with it up an 
inclined plane, dumped it where it was needed, and 
returned down the plank for another load. Young 
girls, wet and dirty, performing this labor from morn- 
ing till night ! 

The shepherds of Scotland are of a far higher 
grade in intellect ; some of them are quite studious 
and intelligent. Their monotonous and quiet life 
gives them advantages which many improve, and 
among them you will find much of that quaint, Scot- 
tish humor, that is so quiet and rich. I heard a story, 
I know not whether well known or not, but I venture 
to give it. Two sparks from London once came upon 
a decent-looking shepherd in Argyllshire, and accosted 
him with : " You have a very fine view here — ^you 
can see a great way." 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. - 481 

'^ Ou aye, on aye, a ferry great way." 
"Ah ! you can see America here I suppose." 
"Farrer than that.' 
"Ah! how's that? 
"Ou jist wait tule the mist gangs awa, an you'll see 
the mune." 



J? 

5> 



CHAPTER XXXII 

The "Navvies" — Irish Begging — Ballad Singers — The "Poet Horse" 
— Irish Famine — Americans in Europe — Want of Taste — Snuff-Tak- 
ing — Feeing Servants — Railways in Great Britain — The Night 
Trains — Signs. 

There is a peculiar class of laboring men in Eng- 
land, — introduced, or brought into existence as a class 
by the railways, — called at first excavators, then rail- 
way navigators, then navvies. The railway navvies 
are considered the finest Herculean specimens of the 
British race, as regards their physical strength. They 
are clannish, and stick together, though, under the 
influence of drink, they sometimes have desperate 
fights with each other. They are generally honest 
and open-hearted. Miss Marsh and others, who have 
become interested in their welfare, give evidence of 
their general good-humor, and the absence of all blus- 
ter and bravado amongst them. If, from illness, one 
is unable to work, he is supported by the comrades in 
his particular gang. 

They earn good wages. At a navvy's funeral, ^Ye 
hundred of his comrades in clean white smock-frocks, 
with black neckerchiefs tied loosely round their 
throats, will sometimes walk in pairs, hand in hand 
after their mate. Their amusements are, playing at 
skittles, — (a rude sort of ten-pins) — quoits, drinking, 
and occasional fighting. A most interesting account 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOim B. GOUGH. 483 

of these men is given by Miss Marsh, in her book en- 
titled "English hearts and English hands." 

A lady told me, as an evidence of their docility, 
and regard for those that take a true interest in them, 
that on one evening, some one came to her house, and 
told her that two of "her navvies" were fighting. 
With her husband's consent, she followed her inform- 
ant, and found a ring of men, wdthin which were 
the two, stripped to the waist. The crowd gave way 
for her, and she quietly stepped up to the two men, 
who were glaring at each other like savage wild beasts, 
with clenched fists and bleeding faces. Laying her 
hand on one, who was over six feet tall, she said in a 
low tone, " Oh, Frank." The hand. instantly dropped, 
both hung down their heads, put on their clothes, and 
in one hour, with their faces washed, they w^ere sitting 
in her kitchen, begging her pardon for having " been 
and gone and disgraced her, who had been so kind to 
them." 

The contrast between the French and English navvy 
may be exemplified by an anecdote related by Sir 
Francis Head. "A French and an English navvy were 
suddenly buried by the falling in of the earth in a 
tunnel in France. The English engineer, instantly 
collected all his men, and they commenced sinking a 
shaft, which was accomplished to the depth of fifty 
feet, in eleven hours, and the men were brought up. 
The Frenchman on reaching the top, rushed forward, 
hugged and kissed on both cheeks, friends and ac- 
quaintance, and then, sitting on a log of timber, put- 
ing both hands before his fiice, began to cry aloud 
most bitterly. The English navvy sat himself down 
on the same piece of timber, took his pit-cap olV his 



484 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

head, wiped with it the perspiration from his hair and 
face, and then looking for a few seconds into the shaft 
through which he had been lifted, as if he was calcu- 
lating the number of cubic yards that had been ex- 
cavated, turned to the crowd of French and English 
who stood gazing at him half terrified, and said, coolly 
and slowly, in his Lancashire dialect : ' Yawve been a 
'nation short toime abaaout it.' " 

The very lowest class, beggars and tramps, I shall 
' speak of when I come to their head-quarters, London. 
But in Ireland you find the poetry of begging. 
When in Dublin and Cork, I walked the street to see 
what I could of the street folk, and listen to the beg- 
gars. Many stories are related of them. When 
Charles Mathews visited Ireland, he met with some 
racy specimens. One day he was accosted with: 
^^Ah! yer honor, have compassion on the blind, the 
lame and the lazy." 

"How's that?" 

"Plaise yer honor, I'm lame, this good woman's 
blind, and my daughter's lazy." 

Another time : " Ah ! yer good-looking honor, have 
pity on a poor crature. Ah! bless your handsome, 
good-looking face." 

"No, I won't give you a farthing for your flattery, 
so go away." 

Immediately another woman said: "Oh! Judy, ye 
hear v/hat the gentleman says to ye — ^go away.' 
That's all ye'll get for yer blarney, butthering people 
over that way. Sure his honor knows he's as ugley a 
piece of furniture as I've seen for many a day. Now, 
yer honor, give me a penny for my honesty.'* 

There is to be found, even among^ the lowest and 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 485 

poorest of the Irisli beggars, a rollicking humor, and 
you are sure to get a quick retort if you chaff them; 
and they will generally evade any trap you set to 
catch them. When offended, their imprecations have 
something fearful about them; and yet, there is hu- 
mor even in their cursing: "May the walls of heaven 
never be darkened by the shadow of yer dirty sowl." 
Their blessings are fully as original: "May ye live 
forever and die happy," " May yer sowl be in glory 
a fortnight before the divil knows you're dead." 

An endless source of amusement is to be found 
among the lower classes of the Irish, and not only 
amusement, but deep interest. I followed two bal- 
lad singers in Cork for nearly an hour, to note the 
people. The ballad was rough, and the singers were 
rude, and not very musical. The theme was the loss 
of the " Royal Charter." I was very much touched 
by the sad, sympathetic faces of the listeners, a crowd 
of whom surrounded the singers. The description 
of the storm, the striking of the ship, the cry of 
the passengers, the prayer that was offered by those 
on deck, — all received a share of notice and sym- 
pathy. 

When the name of God was spoken, every man's 
hat was off, and every w^oman bowed her head. I 
saw tears streaming down the cheeks of some, and 
heard such expressions as, "Ah! God be betune us an 
all harrum." "Oh! the poor craythurs." '-Ah! the 
cruel, cruel say, to swallow them all up." It was to 
me very interesting. 

Mr. and Mrs. S. C. Hall, Avith wliom I formed a 
pleasant personal acquaintance, give, in their work on 
Ireland, some very interesting details of the manners 



486 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHK B. GOUGH. 

and customs of the Irish people. On one occasion, 
when travehng, their coachman pleaded for another 
shilling, after he had received his fare. "Plaise yer 
honor, give me the shilling. If you knew all, you'd 
give it." 

"All, what all?" 

"Ah! sure that's a mighty saicret; but it's worth 
a shilling." 

"Ah! my man, I hardly believe that." 

" Sure then, bless yer honor, if I get the shilling 
and yer honor get's the saicret, yer honor '11 have the 
biggest bargain." 

" Well, there is the shilling — now for the mighty 
secret." 

The driver grasped the shilling, and then said : 
" But I'd better whisper it," and bringing his lips 
close to Mr. Hall's ear, he said, in a very low tone, 
" Plaise yer honor's glory, I've driven ye the last mile 
with the linchpin out.'" 

The Eev. Dr. Cook was about to hire a jaunting 
car from a stand in Belfast, when a very ragged spec- 
imen of a thorough Irish car driver came running up 
to him, and, gesticulating violently said : " Ah ! don't 
take that horse, for the love of the Virgin." 

"Why should I not take this man's horse ?" 

" Why? — 0, murther ! Just only look at him. He's 
a bad resolution ; he jibs going up hill, stumbles 
going down hill, and lays himself flat, on the livil 
ground. There's a horse, now; just look at him. 
He's a poet, and he'll rowl ye along beautiful ! " 

The doctor, thinking he would try the poet, sprang 
into the car, and with a halloo and a crack of the 
whip, went off at spanking pace. At the first rise of 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 487 

a hill the animal stopped, and then commenced a series 
of blarneyings, never to be heard out of Ireland. 

'^ Hey now! what the matter — don't ye see the 
gintleman criticising ye — have ye no regard for yer 
reputation — are ye going? The divil an oat ye'll get 
to-night, if that's the way ye disgrace me. Will ye 
go noiv ? " and down came the butt end of the whip on 
the ribs of the poor beast. " Take that 1 and that ! 
and—" 

" Stop," said the doctor, " I thought your horse was 
a poet." 

" Poet, yer honor — don't ye see the devilopment 
of the born idgiut ? " 

" What development do you mean ? " 

" Why, isn't he betther in the promise than he is in 
the performince ? " 

The best thing I heard while in Dublin was said by 
a man to a woman. Tw^o men were talking together, 
evidently belonging to the poorest class, w^hen a 
woman, short, thick and dumpy, and shockingl}^ dirty, 
came up and interrupted them. " To the divil I'll 
pitch ye now, if ye're not away." Still she annoyed 
them; when one of the men, with an indescribable 
contempt in tone and gesture, said: "Go away with 
ye now ; you're for all the world like a had winter's 
day — short and dirty .'^ 

I saAV a group of boys plaguing a butcher, who was 
exceedingly corpulent, looking like a feather bed Avitli 
a string tied round it. "Ileh! how much for a pluck's 
head?" "Chuck us a bit of liver!" ^' Your mut- 
ton's w^ooUy," — and so on. The poor butcher was 
too unwieldy to run after them, and stood in his door- 
way, helplessly chafing with rage, when one of the 



488 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

urchins gave the finishing stroke, and the poor fellow 
turned into his shop, vanquished and speechless, as 
the boy shouted : " Come away Phelim, come away, 
let him bide — he's nothing but a dropsical old sas- 
sidge himself." 

I was told that two Irishmen were walking to- 
gether past a building in course of completion, when 
one said : " They're quick at building ; it's three 
months since they laid the foundation, and now 
they're putting in the lights." 

" Ay," said the other, " and in a short time they'll 
be putting in the liver." 

I was deeply affected by the accounts given me of 
the famine in 1848. I had spoken in Albany that 
year, to raise money for corn to be sent to them, and 
therefore felt deeply interested, and when speaking 
in Cork, I alluded to the fact that a ship of war, with 
the stars and stripes floating from the mast-head, once 
anchored in the Cove of Cork, freighted with corn 
for starving Irishmen. A gentleman on the platform 
rose to his feet, and proposed three cheers for Amer- 
ica. They were given; then three more; they were 
also given; then, "for the third time three more;" 
and as the mighty roar from hundreds of voices 
ceased, another gentleman rose in great excitement, 
and shouted out, — "One more three cheers with a 
will," and with a will they were given. 

I was appointed to speak in Bandon, and was a guest 
of the rector, brother to the Earl of Bandon. At the 
dinner, where his lordship was present, the conversa- 
tion turned on the Irish famine, and I must confess 
that I never conceived such distress had existed. The 
hostess said to me: "After dinner we will show you 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 489 

the famine walks in our grounds. They were made 
to give some of the poor people employment. We fed 
three hundred at our gates for weeks^ and were com- 
pelled to sprinkle chloride of lime on the stones where 
they satj fearing infection from the famine fever." 

I was told that they dreaded going through the 
village after dark^ lest they^ should stumble on a 
corpse ] that shells, or rude coffins, were placed in the 
streets, and one man had taken to his house four of 
these for his children, as they died, one after the 
other ] and, his wife dying, went for the fifth, brought 
it to the cabin, managed to lay his dead w^ife in it, 
fell over the rude coffin, and was found there a corpse. 
Children were discovered on the beach, with sea-w^eed 
in their mouths, which they had been sucking for 
nourishment, — dead. 

One gentleman informed us, as an evidence of the 
patience of the people, that when the corn was dis- 
tributed, it was brought in open carts from Cork, 
twenty miles distant, passing through a district smit- 
ten with famine, and the poor creatures were seen 
leaning in their weakness against the walls of their 
huts, hungry, pinched, starving, — and were heard to 
say : " God Almighty bless them that sent it." " It's 
coming to us, God be praised -, " but not a kernel of 
the corn was touched by the poor w^'etches, mad »with 
hunger, till it was duly distributed by those having 
the charge of dispensing American bounty; and not a 
soldier, or even a policeman w\as required to guard it. 

I found a vast amomit of io-norance in reo-ard to 
America, among even intelligent Englishmen. Sur- 
prise was expressed in quite a respectabk^ circle, that 
we spoke such good English. This ignorance was 



490 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

manifested in many ways. Constant complaints were 
made of tlie violations of good taste occurring among 
Americans, and with some show of reason; for there 
is a class of Americans who really disgrace us by 
their rudeness ; and I have more than once been mor- 
tified at the recklessness with which some of our 
countrymen — and women too, I am sorry to say — 
would trample on the courtesies, and even the decen- 
cies, of social life ; their loud talking, almost amount- 
ing to brawling, their assumption of independence, 
their bragging and boasting, were very offensive. It 
is right to glory in one's country ; right to be proud 
of America; and no Englishman of sense will despise 
the love of country; but he will certainly exhibit 
contempt for those who violate the rules of courtesy 
and common decency in expressing it. Those who 
thus disgrace us are not fair specimens of Americans, 
and yet they do us serious damage in the estimation 
of foreigners; and when they return home are as of- 
fensive to their own countrymen, by their affected de- 
preciation of everything American. These people 
are constantly and persistently informing you they 
have been to Europe. " When I was in Europe," is 
reiterated over and over again, and, "It's very differ- 
ent in Europe," "When we traveled in Europe." 
They so continually din "Europe" in your ears, that 
you heartily wish they had remained in "Europe." 

But I think the sweeping charge of want of good 
taste as peculiarly applicable to Americans^ is unfair. 

" Wad tbe Power some giftie gi'e us 
To see oursels as ithers see us." 

On the occasion of a lecture I delivered in a coun- 
try town, an Independent minister was appointed to 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHIS" B. GOUGH. 491 

open with prayer. His salary was £300 per year. (I 
mention this to show his position.) After he had con- 
cluded the prayer, he, being also the chairman of the 
meeting, said : " Ladies and gentlemen, as I have in- 
formed you in my prayer, the temperance cause is in 
a healthy state," &c. 

On another occasion, at a meeting of mine, I found 
the platform was erected on the top of the pulpit — 
which was a very high one — lifting me out of the 
reach of the sympathy of my audience on the floor, 
and bringiug me unpleasantly close to those in the 
gallery. As I took my seat, I turned to a gentleman 
next me and said : " I am very sorry that I am placed 
in such an awkward condition to speak. I cannot 
speak here. Below, under the gallery, the people 
cannot see me, and I shall be dizzy looking down 
into that well." The church was small, and I was 
lifted so high, I felt annoyed. 

The gentleman said: ^^The people in the gallery 
pay the highest price, and they would like to see 
your feet." 

See my feet! I grew desperate, and said: "If I 
never made an utter failure before, I shall make one 
now, for I cannot speak here." But it was inevitable ; 
no change could be made ; the meeting was called to 
order, and the person to whom I had been talking 
was called upon, as the minister of the church, to offer 
prayer. What w\as my surprise, when he told the 
Lord he regretted that the platform was not satisfac- 
tory to the speaker, and used these words, as near as 
I can recollect them : 

" We pray that the height of the platform may not 
so interfere with the comfort of the lecturer, but that 



492 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF J0H:N' B. GOUGH. 

he will be able to give as good a lecture here, as 
it has been reported in the papers he has given in 
other towns in the country." This made things 
worse than ever to me, and how I got through I 
hardly know. This was a violation of good taste, 
not merely a blunder. 

Men may make a blunder in prayer, which, though 
absurd, is not considered blameworthy. I was told 
that after the battle of Lexington, a town meeting 
was called to decide on measures for further move- 
ments, when one man, who had witnessed the fight, 
and was in great excitement, was called to pray, as he 
was considered the most religious man in the town. 
In his nervousness he made a terrible blunder, when 
he said : " Oh ! Lord, I never see such a day as it was 
yesterday, and I don't believe you ever did." 

At a breakfast party, where I was present, several 
gentlemen had met for conversation, and the customs 
and peculiarities of Americans were discussed. Yery 
strong expressions were used in reference to our hab- 
it of putting our feet on the table, of swaggering, of 
using the double negative so constantly, and espe- 
cially, of the habit of spitting ; — this was handled very 
severely. One gentleman in particular very strongly 
denounced it. I confessed they had reason for se- 
vere criticism; but I noticed this same gentleman 
push back his chair, and, producing a snuff-box-, tap 
it once or twice, and taking a huge pinch of snuff 
between his two fingers and thumb, apply it to his 
nostrils, give tw^o or three tremendous sniffs, and 
with his handkerchief dab the snuff about his nose, 
and draw up again to the table. This he did three 
times during breakfast. As I was leaving, I said to 



AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 493 

him : " Pardon mej sir, if I say that I agree with you 
in much you have said of American habits ; but you 
will not be offended when I tell you that, though I 
have seen a great deal of spitting in America, I never 
saw any man of any class, under any circumstances, 
take snuff at the breakfast-table. I know not but 
it is done ; but I never saw it." 

He said, with a laugh, — " A fair hit, a fair hit, — I'm 
not offended," 

There are prejudices on both sides. We call them 
sullen, proud, and arrogant, — they call us boasting, 
vain, inquisitive, and conceited. This prejudice seems 
to be national, not against individuals. Americans 
there and Englishmen here are sure of a warm, hospi- 
table reception, if they deserve it -, and for the people 
of both countries to know each other better, w^ould be 
to judge each other less unfavorably. " Ill-will is best 
nursed in ignorance." Charles Lamb, when asked how 
he could hate a people he did not know, answered : 
"And pray how could I hate them if I did know^ them." 

Prejudice without reason is often the most bitter 
and lasting. A writer in the " Fortnightly Eeview," 
February, 1864, says : " I am quite sure that if Eng- 
land had know^n as much about the United States five 
years ago as she does now, the prc3ent unhappy rela- 
tions between the two countries could not be subsist- 
ing. England sneered at those who had been her 
friends, then fighting the last battles of a conflict be- 
gun by herself, and gave her sjanpathies to those who 
had denounced her for her love of freedom;" and we, 
while denuxnding justice untlinchingly, might bo loss 
bitter in our denunciation of England as a avIioIo, did 
Ave know the sjanpathy of the English masses for us 
31 



494 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

in our struggle. I received letter after letter from 
men and women^ deeply sympathizing with us, and 
not merely that, but fighting battles for us, against 
prejudice and false judgment. 

Our independence is not understood by many there ; 
I mean the true, sturdy independence. For instance, 
when I told a gentleman that a man who works for 
me, whom they would call a "farm servant," rides 
with me to church, or town meeting to vote, is an 
assessor of the town, and assesses my property, is my 
friend, and is considered my equal while his conduct 
is without reproach, he said: "There can be no subor- 
dination in such a case, and you have no authority." 

I said: "Ah! but I have authority. What I re- 
quire is done promptly, and respectfully, without 
cringing, but in a spirit of manly independence." 

He replied : " I do not understand how it is, — it 
could not be done here ; such a man would become 
impertinent and unbearable." 

I think he was in a great measure mistaken in 
that; for in any country, if you treat a man as a man, 
you help to make a man of him. Yet there is a very 
general lack of independence among servants and 
work-people in England. A very serious annoyance 
to travelers or visitors is the custom of feeing ser- 
vants. They expect it, even in houses where you 
are an invited guest. Some of the best families are 
taking measures to stop the practice, and in several 
instances we found a card in our rooms, " Please offer 
no gratuities to the servants." 

To those unaccustomed to this system, it is not 
only annoying, but embarrassing, I remember one 
case particularly. When I was a guest with some 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 495 

friends from London^ at the house of a gentleman, 
the butler — a gentlemanly-looking man, with pow- 
dered hair, much better dressed than I — stood at the 
door, at our departure, with a queer expression on 
his face, evidently expecting something. I positively 
could not offer the gentleman, who stood with sleek 
face and white "choaker," money. It seemed to me 
it must be an offense, or insult to him. I would 
gladly have given double what he expected, to be re- 
leased from my embarrassment. After I left the 
house, I said to a friend: "Do you suppose that gen- 
tlemanly-looking fellow would have taken money, 
had I offered it to him ?" 

"Wouldn't he?" was the reply, with a hearty laugh 
at my simplicity; "you just try it the next time, and 
see. Why, he got half a crown from me." 

At some of the hotels it is a perfect nuisance. I 
remember at Canterbury, I invited a friend to take a 
chop with me. We were served with two mutton 
chops, two small potatoes, and bread. The charge 
was five shillings, — about a dollar and a half. After 
I had paid the bill, the waiter, whose only office was 
to bring our fare to the table, stood right in my way, 
and with a sniff and a smile, said: ^^ Please to remem- 
ber the waiter, sir." 

"Why, you do not expect me to give you any 
money, for putting the chop, potatoes, and bread on 
the table, after paying five shillings — do you?" 

^^ These are our wails, sir, and we gets no other 
wages, and excuse me, sir, but gentlemen always does 
it, sir;" (with a strong emphasis on gentlemen.) Of 
course, he got the sixpence; and though I had no 
objection to giving the man a sixpence, I felt fieeced. 



496 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

When walking on Castle Hill, Edinburgh, a seedy- 
looking man came np to me, and touching his hat, 
said: "I beg your pardon sir, but that is Heriot's 
Hospital yonder, built by the Goldsmith of James 
the Sixth." 

"Yes," I replied, "I know it is." 

"And that, sir," he said, pointing towards it, "is 
Donaldson's Hospital, one of the finest modern build- 
ings in Scotland." 

I said, " Yes, sir, I am aware of it." 

Then he inquired: "Have you ever seen the 
house where Burk and Hare committed their horrid 
murders?" 

"No," I said, "I have never seen the house." 

That was sufficient. He came close to me, and, 
directing my attention across the wilderness of house- 
tops, said: "There, sir, do jo\x see that yellow house, 
the gable end this way, with the heavy chimney? — 
that is the house. And here, sir, is the house where 
Mary, Queen of Scots, lived ; and they say she often 
sat at that mullioned window ; and there, opposite, is 
the house occupied in the olden time by the cele- 
brated Duke of Argyle; and that, sir, is David's 
tower; and this rock is called "Dun Edin," — that is 
its ancient name; and there is the Grass-market, 
where the Covenanters suffered; and there are the 
Pentland Hills; and over there is Calton Hill, with 
the unfinished monument for Nelson's victories; and 
there is Inchkeith, in the Frith of Forth ; and further 
on is the Bass Eock, — the coast runs round to Dun- 
bar, near which the battle of Preston Pans was 
fought, and Colonel Gardiner was killed; — this is the 
old town, and over the bridge is the new town ; there 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHI^ B. GOUGH. 497 

is Scott's monument, on Princes street- down here is 
the West Port; and at the foot of the Canongate is 
the Sanctuary, and Holyrood Palace, where" — etc. 

All this he rattled off with such rapidity, that I could 
not stop him, to tell him, that I had visited most of 
these localities; but at last I did manage to say: ^^ I 
am very much obliged to you, sir, for your informa- 
tion, but I must wish you good day." 

Taking off his hat and holding out his hand, he 
said, in a half whining tone, very different from his 
descriptive one, "Please, sir, I get my living by this." 
Of com*se he obtained his gratuity. 

1 was sometimes vexed when we were keeping 
house. If I engaged a man to do a job, to dig in the 
garden, slate my roof, empty the dust-bin, look after 
a leaky gas-pipe, or carry a parcel for me, after I had 
paid him his price, sneaking and whining, ashamed 
to look me in the face, he would inquire if I had as 
many half pence in my pocket as would buy him a 
pint of beer. 

If I go into a factory, and some mechanic explains 
to me the excellencies or intricacies of the machinery, 
when I thank him, and wish him good day, he'll ask 
me for a pint of beer. When walking in the fields, I 
ask that laboring man the nearest way to the village 
church yonder, he will give me the information with 
a dastardly, snivelling demand for beer. I hold, that 
a worlvman of any kind, in au}^ country, who asks for 
money, or beer, when his labor is paid for at his own 
price, is a pest, a nuisance, and a humbug. 

. I believe there is a great improvement in all this, 
within the past few years, and the custom will, by 
and by, be utterly abolished by the good sense of the 



498 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF J0H:N' B. GOUGH. 

people, and go down to oblivion ; and the sooner the 
better for the workman, even more than for those 
who have suffered from the imposition. 

So many Americans have traveled in England, and 
their experiences have been so extensively published, 
that it will not be necessary to give my impressions 
at large of the railways of Great Britain. I traveled 
more than sixty thousand miles in the kingdom dur- 
ing the ^Ye years of my sojourn there and, knowing 
something of English railway traveling will just state 
that one train each day must run on all roads for a 
penny per mile, according to " Act of Parliament." 
These are called Parliamentary trains. The fares are 
generally, — third class, about a penny per mile ; sec- 
ond class, two pence; first class, three pence; and ex- 
press, taking only first class* passengers, about three 
pence half-penny per mile. Although the passengers 
in the express trains are in almost every respect a. con- 
trast to the Parliamentary, yet the leveling tendency 
of the railway system is plainly exhibited. The Earl 
of Duke, whose dignity once compelled him to post 
in a coupe and four, takes his place now, unnoticed, in 
the corner of a carriage, opposite a traveler for a mer- 
cantile house, or side by side with the landlady of a 
lodging-house. 

The working of the railway is very complete ; — I 
speak of the "London and North-western." This line 
is divided into districts of from seventeen to thirty 
miles, to each of which is appointed an over-looker, 
whose district is subdivided into lengths of one to two 
miles, and to each of them is appointed a foreman 
with a gang of two or three men. Every morning 
before the first train passes, the foreman is required 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 490 

to walk over his length, to inspect it, and especially 
ascertain that each of the keys securing the rails is 
firmly fixed. 

The duties of the engine-driver are much more 
severe than with us, they having little or no protec- 
tion, standing almost like the figure-head of a ship, 
perhaps dashing into a gale of wind from the north- 
west, at the rate of forty miles an hour ; suffering 
from cold, and often their clothes drenched with rain. 
They generally drive their engine from one hundred 
to one hundred and twenty miles each day. When 
the engine is brought in, the driver carefully exam- 
ines it, reporting in a book what repairs are needed ; 
if none, he reports it correct. Then the foreman of 
the fitters examines it; if anything is found out of 
order, he reports the driver. Then a third examina- 
tion is made by the superintending engineer of the 
station; if he detects any defect, he reports both en- 
gine driver and foreman. 

The station at Euston Square is a very fine one, 
lighted from the top by nearly two acres of plate 
glass. Your cab brings you to the magnificent front, 
and on through a square court-yard, leaving you at 
the entrance to the platform; the door opens with 
surprising alacrity, and a civil porter, as j'ou alight, 
takes all your baggage, telling you, ^^ You'll find it 
on the platform, sir." You purchase your ticket, pro- 
ceed to the platform, and find it on a barrow, guarded 
by a porter. "Now then, sir, claim your luggage.'*' 
It is then ticketed, and placed either in a luggage 
van, or on the carriage you occupy. Their first-class 
cars, or carriages, are very comfortable, tliough our 
drawing-room coaches far exceed them, both in lux- 



500 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

ury and convenience. Their second-class carriages 
are barely comfortable; while the third-class are de- 
cidedly unpleasant to travel in. 

The scene on the departure of a train is quite ex- 
citing. People of good character^ bad character, and 
no character,, children and old people, tall and short 
men, big and little women ; some looking for friends, 
others avoiding acquaintances; here, a bridal party, 
and there, a painful parting; boys running along by the 
train with "Times!" "Telegraph!" "News!" "Star!"— 
people of all countries, religions, and languages, either 
separating from friends, or quietly taking their seats 
in the carriages. We do not hear from the guard, 
"All aboard!" as from our conductor here; but, "Now 
then, take seats, take seats, passengers for the north 
please take seats." A ticket agent passes the whole 
length of the train, — "Please show your tickets," or 
^Hickets, please," or Tickets! according to the class 
of passengers. Then, "All right!" a sharp whistle, 
and the train moves slowly, almost imperceptibly, 
faster, faster, on, on, till you are whizzing at the rate 
of forty miles an hour. The rate of travel is higher 
than in this country. I once rode fifty-three miles in 
fifty-seven minutes, timing it by my watch, from Ox- 
ford to London. 

I was always interested in the arrival of a train 
after dark, — the gas-lights, two hundred and fifty- two 
in number, are screwed down to the minimum, and all 
i^ still, save the hissing of some pilot engine ; on a 
sudden is heard a mysterious moan, followed by the 
violent ringing of a bell. That instant, on and above 
a curve of nine hundred feet, each gas-light bursts 
into full power. That moaning, or low, melancholy 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 501 

whine, which will continue ■aninterrtiptedly for five 
minutes, is caused by air, condensed in a hydraulic 
machine. An officer in Camden Station, two miles 
away, having charge of this machine, allows a portion 
of air to rush through an inch pipe, and this conveys 
to the signal man, watching night and day, the ar- 
rival of the train at that station. The si^^nal man 

CD 

immediately rings his bell, and, taking with him three 
flags or lamps, — danger (red), caution (green), secu- 
rity (white), — proceeds down the line to a point from 
which he can see another signal man, — he also being 
in sight of another, — and he of another, — between 
the stations. On no account can the train leave the 
platform at Camden, until the guard has received 
through the air-pipes at the signal office, the notice, 
"All clear." In a very few minutes, the long, dark- 
colored, dusty train comes gliding into the station. 
Porters unfasten the doors of the carriages, and the 
passengers take their departure by the various vehi- 
cles in readiness to convey them. 

Close to each departure gate, there is stationed a 
person who challenges the driver — "Number of your 
cab?" "782." "^^How many passengers?" "Two." 
"Where are you going?" "No. 8 Edith Grove, Bromp- 
ton." "All right!" This information is recorded in 
a book. Thus any traveler desirous of complaining 
of a cab-man, or who may have left property in the 
carriage, simply states on what day and by what train 
he arrived, and where he was conveyed, and the name 
of the driver can be ascertained. 

I derived many of the statistics, and much inlbrnia- 
tion in reference to railwav mana2:ement, from a little 
work entitled "Stokers and Pokers." 



502 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHX B. GOUGH. 

In passing through the principal towns, one source 
of amusement to me was the signs, — some quaint, 
others comical, some appropriate, others absurd, some 
suggestive, and others without meaning. The Queen 
being popular, there is a great desire to be considered 
as doing business under her auspices. This leads to 
curious incongruities. There are not only butchers, 
bakers, shoe-makers, hosiers, coach-makers, and gen- 
eral purveyors to '^ her majesty;" but the Queen has 
also her "breeches-maker." I saw a card on which a 
man styles himself "Illuminating artist to her maj- 
esty," indicating that he lights the lamps about Buck- 
ingham Palace. 

A writer in "Notes and Queries" speaks of a sign 
in the window of a public house, — "Siste viator, mo- 
nitas mendita sciantic fatisque," — which means, stop 
traveler, an unheard of novelty, a combination of 
science and drinking, a glass of ale and a galvanic 
shock for two pence. "Intra bila suscipe solon." 

I heard of a funny sign over a hair-dresser and wig- 
maker's shop, with a picture of Absalom hanging on 
a tree by the hair of his head, and David lamenting, 
mournfully exclaiming: 

"Oil! Absalom, my son, my son, 
Thou would'st not have died if thou'd'st had a wig on." 

At Wolverhampton I saw a sign over a beer shop, 
"Calm retreat, by Hannah More, licensed to be drunk 
on the premises ; " in Nottingham, a public house 
sign, '^ Henry Kirke White ; " in Birmingham;, " The 
Hen and Chickens." I collected quite a large num- 
ber of those I had seen, but the list of them is lost. 

Near my residence at Brompton, there is "The 
Goat and Compasses." Tradition tells us it is a oor- 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 503 

ruption of the old Puritan sign, ^^God encompasses 
us." In Shoreditch there is a sign called the "Three 
Loggerheads/' — a picture of two men seated at a 
table, and underneath, the lines, — 

" We three, loggerheads be." 

I saw a beer shop with a sign, "The Widow's La- 
ment;" another, in Oxford Street, "The Mischief;" 
at the land's end, "The First and the Last." You will 
find the "Cat and Muffin," "Cat and Fiddle," "Pig 
and Whistle," "Cat and Gridiron," "Goat in Boots," 
"The World Upside Down," "Hit or Miss," "The 
Green Man," "Getting through the World," "Bull 
and Looking-glass," — Bulls and Bears of all colors. 
One sign is the picture of a woman with her head 
cut oif, called "The Silent Woman." In fact, the 
curious signs are innumerable. I speak only of those 
I remember to have seen. A very ingenious and in- 
teresting book of more than ^Ye hundred pages has 
been lately published, entitled " The History of Sign- 
boards," containing, as far as can be ascertained, the 
origin and history of the numerous signs to be found 
in Great Britain, — an exceedingly amusing volume, 
to those who are at all interested in sign-board lit- 
erature. 



CHAPTER XXXni. 

Reform in England — Englisli Mind — American Mind — Wom'en's "Work 
in England — "Beautiful Work" — Fetes for the People — Parlor Meet- 
ings — Carshalton Park — Poor "Women from London — Flowers — One 
Bright Day. 

In" Aprilj 1853, the London Times said: "The great 
difficulty with those who would innovate and im- 
prove, is to persuade the English mind that such in- 
novations and improvements are possible. This point 
once gained, we may be sure success is near at hand; 
for it seems to be a habit of the public, stubbornly 
to deny the practicability of anything which is not 
immediately to take place." And again the writer 
says : "So wedded are we to custom, so hampered by 
precedent, so enslaved by habit, that we cannot bring 
ourselves to believe that what is wrong in our pro- 
ceedings, can possibly be corrected, or what is right 
in the practices of our neighbors, can possibly be 
adopted." 

Here is the key to the difficulty of moving the 
public mind of England toward anything new or 
strange. They seldom jump to conclusions, but 
make their approaches carefully, and almost timidly, 
as though fearful of being caught. 

Notwithstanding their audiences, especially among 
the working men, are wonderfully enthusiastic, it re- 
quires almost as much, to make an Englishman ac- 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN" B. GOUGH. 505 

cept a new proposition, or adopt a new measure, as 
Sydney Smith said it required to make a Scotchman 
understand a joke. All their great reforms have been 
successful, only through patient working on the part 
of their advocates. Years of labor were needed to 
secure the repeal of the corn-laws; but when they 
become fully satisfied that a measure is right and 
possible, no nation on earth will more persistently 
and doggedly carry out the purpose to gain the de- 
sired results. 

The Committee of the House of Commons, pro- 
nounced railways an impossibility; but Great Britain 
can now boast of the best-constructed railways in the 
world. Chat Moss '' could not be drained ; " — now, 
hundreds pass daily over that once-dreaded morass, 
on the magnificent causeway built by the indefatiga- 
ble labors of George Stephenson. It was deemed im- 
possible that London could be tunneled for railways, 
- — now, the arteries, of travel reach in every direction, 
and the '' Under-ground Kailway " is a success. For 
years it was considered impracticable to cleanse the 
river Thames, and transform a putrid ditch (which it 
had become) into a pure and healthy river, — now, the 
splendid embankment of the Thames, and the magnifi- 
cent system of drainage are the wonder of the world. 
Slavery was a " fixed fiict," and could not be abolished 
in the Colonies, — years since, Great Britain, at an ex- 
pense of millions, aboHshed the institution of slavery 
in every portion of her dominions. England declared 
that our Union could not be preserved amid the hor- 
ror and desolation of a civil war — that it was impossi- 
ble we could ever exist again as a united poopU^ : — 
but now, in our restored prosperity, with the certainty 



506 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

that, by God's blessing, we shall become a freer and 
more united people than ever before, — England ac- 
cepts the position, and, convinced by the logic of 
facts, of our stability as a united people, is ready to 
recognize our importance among the nations ; and 
many who shook their heads, not merely in doubt, 
but with pity for our assured destruction, congratulate 
themselves to-day that they were not entangled by 
Confederate bonds. This stubbornness and dogged- 
ness work both ways, — in strenuously denying the 
possibility of the success of a project, and, when con- 
vinced that it is feasible, working for it with a deter- 
mined perseverance worthy of admiration. 

The cry of "Reform," there, is no vain cry — it 
is the voice of the people, and cannot be silenced. 
Gradually, but surely, will England's abuses be abol- 
ished. For years the nuisance of Smithfield Market 
was well-nigh intolerable, yet borne with almost he- 
roic patience, till the possibility of its removal was 
recognized, and then — the nuisance disappeared at 
once. 

Many of their public journals are amusing, from 
their alternate assertions and retractions, not only in 
reference to their own affairs, but in regard to those 
of other nations, political, religious, and domestic. 

The great difficulty experienced in advocating the 
temperance question is, or was, the dogged, arbitrary 
condemnation of the principles involved, a stolidity 
of perception, and an expressed belief in the impossi- 
bility of establishing those principles among them. 
And yet, the temperance movement is steadily in- 
creasing in power and influence. Some of the lead- 
ers are far-seeing men, and look not only to the 



AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. r507 

direct results, but to the future development of the 
harvest, of which they are patiently, in spite of all 
discouragements, sowing the seed. I know no men 
who are more deserving of all praise, than the steady, 
persevering advocates of reform — political, church, 
and moral — in Great Britain. 

When success crowns the efforts put forth to estab- 
lish any new principle or project, often the most per- 
sistent doubters and opposers, are the first to avail 
themselves of any privileges or advantages arising 
from that success ; and the false prophets are often 
ashamed of their own prophecies. 

In this age of wonderful progress we hardly dare 
to affirm that anything is impossible. Those of us 
who remember forty years ago, and see the wonder- 
ful advance made in science, mechanics, and useful 
inventions, can realize the important changes wrought 
during that period. Truly, we live in a time when 
"men run to and fro in the earth, and knowledge is 
increased ;" and yet every useful invention, from the 
friction match to the Atlantic cable, and Pacific Rail- 
road, has fought its way to success, against argument 
and opposition. What a change, from the flint, and 
steel, and tinder, when we knocked the skin from our 
knuckles for a spark, and then puffed with watery 
eyes, amid the fumes of brimstone, and the smoke of 
tinder for a blaze, to the instantaneous ignition ! an 
apparently trivial matter, but ranking among the first 
of useful and important modern inventions. Steam 
navigation, the railroad system, telegraph operation, 
have developed in such rapid succession, that wo are 
fairly startled by the wonderful revolution in all that 
affects our comfort or convenience ; and lookiu^- into 



508 • AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF J0H:N' B. GOUGH. 

the future, as we turn to the past, we are inclined to 
bury all incredulity, and say reverently, ^^All things 
are possible." 

A gentleman, writing to me from Montreal, gives 
me the following: "Once in coming from school, 
when a little boy, I heard a man singing in a street 
of London the following ditty, (this was in 1811,) 
and when I arrived home, I said: 'Mother, I heard 
a man singing, — 

** ' Coaches soon will run by steam, 
Hodges' gin is very strong, 
St. Paul's does stand behind Queen Anne, 
And when you're right you can't be wrong.' 

'^'0, my dear,' said my mother, 'How wicked — 
coaches going by steam ! If a boat can go by steam, 
a coach never can. However, my boy, 'tis true 
Hodges' gin is strong, for it knocked down old Mr. 
Oliver, and you know he's a big man ; St. Paul's does 
stand behind the statue of Queen Anne; and if 
3^ou're right you can't be wrong; — but its very wrong 
to say coaches soon will go by steam.' 

" But the old lady lived long enough to see the 
first steam-coach in London, and when she did, she 
exclaimed — 'My deary me!'" 

I was once quite amused, while traveling over the 
"Western Railroad, now the Boston and Albany. At 
Springfield, I purchased a book to while away the 
time. I happened to get " Capt. Basil Hall's travels 
in North America," and, as I passed over the Hoosac 
Mountain, I read his very graphic description of a 
ride over these hills in a stage-coach. After dwelling 
on the scenery, the ravines, the gorges, the high rocky 
hills, the winding of the rapid river, he said: "These 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 609 

Yankees talk of constructing a railroad over this 
route. As a practical engineer, I pronounce it sim- 
ply impossible." With the book in my hand, my 
eyes on the word " impossible/' I was smoothly as- 
cending the mountain, several hundred feet rise in 
'twenty miles, the "iron horse," with six driving 
wheels, snorting up the heavy grade, and scores of 
passengers happily unconscious that the English trav- 
eler and engineer had pronounced this success an 
impossibility. 

After all, I think I prefer the steady approach, the 
persistent opposition till convinced by arguments that 
cannot be resisted, to the volatile assent, and hasty 
adoption of measures — especially those that require 
self-denial in the steadfast adherence to them. I be- 
lieve the number who violate their pledge in Great 
Britain, is far less than in this country. The re- 
formers there make it a serious business. They 
know the character of the people, and the minds on 
which they must operate, and their work is more per- 
manent and thorough. We have a "Maine Law," 
and public sentiment is far stronger in our favor, yet 
I have more confidence in the stability of the tem- 
perance movement, and stronger hopes of its speedy 
success there, than I have here, with all our advan- 
tages, and the progress we had made years ago in 
advance of them. In fact, I believe we have been 
retrograding while they have been progressing. I 
may be wrong, but these are my convictions; and 
till we are ready to work, as we did, with the pledg*o, 
with the young, and devote our attention more to the 
enlightenment and instruction of the public mind, and 
less to the vituperation and abuse of those who diilbr 



510 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

with US about measures, but are as firm and true as 
we in their love for the great cause itself, — we shall 
continue to retrograde. 

There is a large amount of good effected in England 
by self-denying women. Let any person read " En- 
glish Hearts and English Hands," or "The JVIissing 
Link," and he will see what women are doing of 
Christian work among the poor. The temperance 
cause owes much to the efforts of women, among the 
laboring classes. Eead " Haste to the Rescue," or 
"Ragged Homes, and How to Mend them," or "Work- 
men and their Difficulties," and you will gain an in- 
sight into this sphere of labor, that will convince you 
such efforts must be successful in the end. No dis- 
couragements hinder, no opposition checks them; 
their purposes seem strengthened by the blasts of ad- 
verse criticism. I met the men and women who have 
been gathered in the "Kensington Potteries" by Mrs. 
Bayley, and I spent a few days at Shrewsbury, the 
guest of Rev. Charles Wightman, whose noble wife 
has accomplished a wonderful work among the deni- 
zens of Butcher's Row. A lady by birth and educa- 
tion, ailing in health for years, but becoming grieved in 
her soul at the desolation and misery of the wretched 
families in that locality, commenced investigations as 
to the cause and the possible remedy. She found that 
intoxicating drink was the prime source of this deg- 
radation, uncleanliness and sin. Her first movement 
was to sign the temperance pledge, in the face of re- 
monstrance from physicians, who said she could not 
live without stimulants; then went among the people 
quietly, and asked them to do as she did. She thus 
gained the respect and confidence of the men and 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHJf B. GOUGH. 511 

women ; and when I was there, I addressed an audi- 
ence of more than three hundred, who were members 
of her society. She has recorded some of the results 
of her labor in that thrillinglj interesting work, — 
^^ Haste to the Rescue." I will take the liberty of 
inserting here portions of a letter she wrote to me, 
dated September 4, 1859 : 

My Dear Friend^ — I received your kind letter this morning, and, 
having a little leisure for a few minutes, will hastily tell you some facts 
respecting my heautiful work at home. 

On August 1st, last year, I had twenty teetotalers. On August 1st, 
this year, T had two hundred and thirty, and we still keep increasing 
our numbers. Besides these men, I have about one hundred women, 
by far the largest number of whom were the most sober, industrious 
and excellent wives of the whole set. This has been to my society the 
greatest help possible ; for scarcely a man ever breaks the pledge, whose 
wife is whole-hearted on the subject. I therefore entreat every wife to 
sign! With the exception of the first six men, I have hardly asked a 
7nan to sign. They have come to me as perfect strangers, asking me 
to receive them. This clears me from any charge of making proselytes, 
the honest conviction of every man being on my side. And it is a 
very trying fact, that the publicans do me less damage than the doctors 
do. The reason is obvious : no amount of temptation from a publican 
will break down a good staunch member; they feel that an interested 
motive may be at the bottom of their importunity; but when a man 
feels out of sorts, — as everybody will feel occasionally — especially men 
who are out in all weathers, and getting into violent heats in their work, 
etc., — then, when a medical prescription comes in the form of porter, 
ale, brandy, or gin, — all of which have, at various times, been recom- 
mended by the faculty, — then it is that a feeling of duty to follow the 
prescription comes in; and, coupled with the enticements of the traitor 
tvitliin, that man is sure, almost, to go back to drunkenness; and in- 
stead of gaining any benefit from the stimulant, he seldom returns to 
me (if he returns a.t all) until he has spent from two to twenty pounds, 
and until he arrives at a des-rce below the condition in which ho at first 
came before me. We made a rule to meet these disasters, last Tuesday 
week, which I give you below, to which a full meeting gave unanimous 
content. 



512 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN" B. GOUGH. 

NEW RULE. 

^* No member shall be allowed to take porter, or any other intoxicat- 
ing drink, even by a medical man's prescription, unless he is unable to 
work. He must then produce a medical certificate, statifig the quantity 
to be taken, and the hours when. Any member infringing this rule, or 
acting contrary to such certificate, by di'inking at any other times, or in 
any other quantity, shall be expelled from the society." 

I have had a most enjoyable time in Manchester these two days, en- 
tirely amongst the working-classes — chiefly the night-soil men — in com- 
pany with one of the best city missionaries in the world. There are 
some sterling Christian teetotalers amongst them. But I must not 
take up your time further. I believe that some of my men are equal 
to any in the kingdom, for every quality of heart and mind; true- 
hearted, staunch, independent, spirited men — full of affection, and 
every generous feeling. And now, dear friend, adieu! Believe me, 
yours very sincerely, Julia B. Wightman. 

P. S. — I have for fifteen years been constantly ailing — weak, ill, 
good for nothing, until I signed the pledge, and now for one twelve- 
month I have been independent of medical aid — thank God. In spite 
of all my real hard work — five nights a week from house to house till 
past ten, and not once in bed till twelve o'clock, or past; and up gen- 
erally at half-past six, a. m. I signed March 21, 1853. 

In many places where I was a guest, I found the 
ladies of the family busily and earnestly engaged in 
endeavoring to ameliorate the condition of the poor, 
by inculcating temperance, visiting them, reading to 
them, and trying to teach them cleanliness and habits 
of thrift. I know one family where the lovely and 
refined Christian daughters went day by day to read 
to the navvies, working on the railroad, during 
their dinner hour. A young lady might be seen 
seated on a block of stone, surrounded by the rough 
men eating their meal, while she read to them. The 
Queen could hardly be treated with more genuine 
respect than were these young ladies. Eyes would 
brighten as they approached, and the hard-handed 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 515 

laborer, would spread his old jacket on the stone for 
the delicate lady to sit on. This is what Mrs. Wights 
man calls a " heautificl work" No company or amuse- 
ment could keep these ladies from this employment, 
I would hear, " Please excuse us for an hour — we are 
going to our men." By such work as this the seed is 
sown, and He who sends such laborers into His field, 
will give the harvest. 

The work outside of the temperance organization 
is very extensive; gentlemen of property devoting 
themselves personally to the interests of the poorer 
classes. This work is all unknown to the traveler, 
who takes a cursory view of things ; to know what is 
doing, we must see the people, not on the highways 
of travel, but in their houses, and on their estates, 
Samuel Bowly, of Horsepools, near Gloucester, gives 
an annual fete to the people, procuring for them the 
best speakers — refreshments — and, though he is a 
member of the "Society of Friends," provides for 
them music. Joseph Tucker, of Pavenham Bury, a 
large landed proprietor, gives a fete in his splendid 
park to his people, and those from other parishes who 
choose to come. Potto Brown, of Houghton, Hunt- 
ingtonshire, on the annual "feast," or show, attracts 
the people from the drinking and dancing booths, to 
an entertainment in tents, decorated with flowers and 
evergreens — drawing them from drink to healthy 
amusements, cricket, etc., engaging the services of 
the best men who can be obtained as speakers, striv- 
ing earnestly and heartily to advance their physical, 
moral, and spiritual interests. Many others I might 
record, having visited them, and been honored by 
their hospitality. 



516 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

Another form of unobtrusive but effective effort 
was in holding what were called "Parlor meetings." 
Gentlemen like Samuel Bowly, of social position, 
everywhere respected, and gifted with the power of 
addressing convincingly the largest audiences, would 
arrange to convene in their own drawing-room, a 
picked audience from the vicinity, and either with or 
without the conciliatory and pleasant hospitalities of 
tea or lunch, hold a conference of several hours, upon 
the claims of the movement. In this way many a 
gentleman or lady of commanding influence was won 
to the cause ; — persons whose names were a guarantee 
for scores of others, and who had been kept aloof from 
the movement through offense to taste or culture, 
given by unfortunate advocacy, had, in these meet- 
ings, prejudices melted away, scruples satisfied, con- 
science quickened ; and consent was heartily accorded 
to espouse the cause ; — persons who would have re- 
mained long years untouched by other means. 

Injudicious advocacy is a damage rather than an 
aid, in advancing the interests of the temperance 
cause. A dogmatic assumption of superiority, abuse 
of those who differ with us, or an arrogant exaltation, 
that would seem to say, — '^ Stand aside, ' I am holier 
than thou,' because I have adopted a certain remedy 
for a certain evil," — will never recommend the move- 
ment to the sympathy of the intelligent and refined. 

I have spoken of the ignorance and degradation of 
a portion of the laboring classes. I confess, in some 
districts it seems hopeless; but I record these self- 
denying efforts to ameliorate their condition, and 
wherever these efforts are made, a corresponding 
change for the better is plainly to be perceived. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN" B. GOUGH. 517 

When in London, Mr. Samuel Gurney invited us 
to Carshalton Park, on the occasion of his inviting 
fifty poor women from London to spend the day in 
his grounds. It was his frequent custom to convey 
invitations through the city missionaries to a number 
of poor women, with their children, to taste the fresh 
air, and ramble in the meadows, or among the flow- 
ers, or on the lawns, about his residence; and they 
came from stifling courts, poor, pale, haggard crea- 
tures, neglected, and poverty-stricken, in omnibuses 
provided by him for their accommodation. That 
day, there were forty-nine women, and some dozen 
children. They scattered among the hay-makers, the 
children romped on the newly-mown grass, the poor 
mothers either strolling in groups, or seated on some 
pleasant knoll, chatting neighborly together, the 
bright sun shining, the birds singing, the children 
shouting in glee, and all combining to give them one 
happy day — one little lift out of the dull, weary mo- 
notony of their dreary life. 

At noon, they were invited to a bountiful dinner 
of roast beef and plum pudding, spread for them under 
a tent ; Mr. Gurney and his guests, with the servants 
of the house, waiting on them. After their meal they 
separated, to roam about the gardens and grounds, 
the children to play. One poor woman said to me, 
on my making some inquiries: "Ah! sir, I haven't 
seen a green field afore to-day for twelve year." 
Again in the evening, a plentiful repast was spread 
for them in the tent, — bread and butter, buns, plain 
cakes, fruit, and tea. Then a few words of kindly- 
spoken advice, and the gardener brought into the 
tent a small bouquet of cut flowers for each woman. 



518 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

How their dim eyes danced with delight at their 
beauty ! Their toil-worn fingers clasped the stems, 
and their expressions of admiration were genuine. 
No " ball-room belle " could appreciate with such de- 
light her choice bouquet in its silver holder. As the 
sun was setting, the omnibuses were brought to the 
tent, and, amid the quiet laughter of the women, and 
the noisier demonstrations of the children, they took 
their seats. As the park gates were open the gentle- 
men took off their hats and gave them three cheers, 
which were heartily returned ; and with the cheers of 
the guests, the crowing of the younger ones, and the 
murmured thanks of the mothers, they returned to 
London — ^back to their dreary, dirty, cheerless homes; 
but refreshed and helped by one day's recreation ; — 
and who shall say how many days the faded flowers 
in some stifling room reminded the dwellers of one 
bright day; and when the flowers are all decayed, and 
their perfume gone, may not the fragrance of that 
remembrance cheer and encourage them in the dull 
monotony of their daily struggle ? Who shall say ? 
It may be so. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

Departure for America — Bad News — The Minister's Welcome — Recep- 
tion at Mechanics' Hall — Death of Joel Stratton — His Life and Char- 
acter — First Written Lecture — Charge of Deserting the Temper- 
ance Cause — Beggars — Borrowers — Bores — Anecdotes of Travel — 
Kailroad Accident. 

We liad a pleasant passage from Liverpool to Bos- 
toiij and reached home on the evening of August 
22d5 — my birthday, — after an absence of three years 
and thirty-eight days. On our arrival at Worcester, 
we learned that my wife's eldest brother, Luke, had 
met with a fatal accident on the Erie Eailroad, and 
was buried two weeks before ; and that her remainino* 
brother, Charles, was very ill with typhoid brain fever. 
The joy of our return home was mingled with sad- 
ness. I tried to comfort Mary as well as I was able, 
but it was a heavy blow to her. 

On the 3d of September our neighbors and friends 
invited us to a reception picnic in a grove, which was 
very pleasant. Mrs. Gough's brother being in a nerv- 
ous state from \hQi effects of the fever, it was deemed 
advisable, for a change, that he should be brought to 
our house. Accordingly, we prepared for him, aud 
on Saturday, September 15th, he arrived, apparently 
but little fatigued by the journey of twelve miles 
from Bolton; but on Sunday mornino; ho died verv 
suddenly, — only twenty hours after his arrival, — and 
the same afternoon was conveyed back to Bolton. 



520 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHX B. GOUGH. 

I had received the following document, which was 
intended to be sent me before I left England, but had 
been delayed till my return, when it was presented 
to me at my home by Kev. H. W. Dexter, at the 
head of a deputation: 

John B. Gough, — Dear Si?-: The undersigned ministers of tlie Gos- 
pel, of different denominations, in Massachusetts, having learned that 
you intend returning home in the month of August next, desire to 
welcome you, with your family, to our shores, and to reassure you of 
our cordial esteem and love, as a fellow-laborer in the common cause. 

Should you be inclined to gratify our wishes, we beg of you to name 
a day, at such time, after your arrival in the country, as may be con- 
venient to yourself, when we, with other friends of Temperance, may 
hope to welcome you at a public meeting in the City of Boston. 
With great respect, we have the honor to be 

Very truly your friends. 

[Signed by four hundred and eighty-nine ministers of the Gospel. 

In reply to this, I appointed Monday, September 
17th, for the meeting. Arrangements were made, 
and as it was deemed advisable not to postpone, I 
went down that day, and was greeted by a large 
number of friends. In the evening an audience filled 
every part of Tremont Temple. A book, finely bound, 
containing the autographs of those who had signed 
the invitation, with an inscription, — " The Welcome 
of the Ministers of Massachusetts to John B. Gough 
on his return from England in August, 1860," — was 
presented to me ; and the whole proceedings were of 
the most deeply interesting character to me. 

A reception was given me at the Mechanics' Hall, 
Worcester, at which the Hon. Judge Barton presided. 
All this was very gratifying and encouraging to me. 

On the 25th I commenced work in earnest, and 
continued till December 1st. I then left for the 



AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 521 

West, remaining there till February 8tli, when I re- 
turned home for a week. 

My record of work for the next few years would, 
of itself, be devoid of general interest; therefore I 
simply state that I have been employed constantly, 
eight months of each year, in lecturing, devoting 
the remaining four months to rest and preparation ; 
delivering from one hundred and sixty to one hun- 
dred and eighty lectures each year, to the present 
summer. 

On my return home from New York, October 26, 
1860, 1 was informed that Joel Stratton was very ill. 
I at once proceeded to his house, and found him 
propped by pillows in his chair, for his disease was of 
such a character that he could not lie down. The 
drops stood like beads on his forehead, and on the 
back of his hands, for he was very weak. I said to 
him, — " God bless you, Stratton ; thousands are thank- 
ful that you ever lived.'' Feebly he whispered, "Do 
you think so?" ^^ Think so ! I have my English mail 
here — " and I read him some extracts from a letter I 
had received from a lady, wdiere she wrote, ^" How 
glad you must have been to meet your old friend, 
Joel Stratton, for whom we often pra}^, and whom we 
all love." Looking at me with his pleasant smile, 
he said : " When I laid my hand on your shoulder 
that night, I never dreamed all this would come to 
pass— did you?" "No," I said, "but it has." I 
kissed him and left him, hoping to see him again. I 
was engaged in Montreal on the 20th, and on my re- 
turn found he was dead, and the funeral was to take 
place the next day, November 7th. 

I take the liberty of introducing some paragraphs 



522 AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

from a sketch entitled ^^ One-man Power/' written by 
Rev. Horace James^ a short time after Mr. Stratton's 
death : 

A good man has fallen, one upon whom Providence bestowed the 
honor of distinguished usefulness ; yet one who moved in the humbler 
walks of life, and whose biography will add another to *'the simple 
annals of the poor." The name of Joel D. Stratton ls widely 
known throughout the United States, and still more widely in Great 
Britain and Ireland, as the man who was the instrument of John B. 
Gough's reformation. Subsequent events have elevated into unexpected 
prominence a simple act of kindness ; but the nature of a good deed is 
ever the same. It is not dependent upon perceived results, for its 
moral quality, or its high reward. 

Joel Dudley Stratton, the subject of this notice, was born in the 
township of Athol, in the State of Massachusetts, on the 11th day of 
August, A. D., 1816. He spent his boyhood and youth with his 
parents, and enjoyed no other advantages for learning, than such as 
were furnished him in a Christian home, a public school, and the vil- 
lage church. He labored upon his father's farm until he had attained 
the age of twenty-one years, when he removed to Worcester, and was 
there employed by Thomas Tucker, Esq., the proprietor and keeper 
of the American Temperance House. While he was there, in the 
capacity of a waiter, in the autumn of 1842, occurred that memorable 
event in his life which has connected it so pleasantly with the career of 
Mr. Gough. [See page 127]. 

At the time of this mterview, Mr. Stratton was a single man. In 
1845, on the 6th of May, he married Miss Susan P. Day, an excellent 
Christian lady, who was his constant, faithful, affectionate companion, 
through all the vicissitudes of their life. There was little to distinguish 
Mr. Stratton's later years. The care and support of a family com- 
pelled him to follow closely his occupation, which was that of a boot- 
crimper, and by which he earned as a journeyman about a dollar and 
a half a day. Though not of robust constitution, his health was uni- 
formly good, up to the time of his last brief illness, so that he seldom 
lost a day from his work in the shop. A happy home, with an increas- 
ing family of children, were a continual stimulus to toil, even had he 
not been naturally industrious and frugal. At one period in his life, 
he had accumulated five hundred dollars, carefully saved from his earn- 
ings. But after investing this in a dwelling-house, he was forced to 



AUTOBIOGKAPHT OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 523 

sacrifice it at the time of a financial crisis, and lost the whole. "With 
the exception of four years spent in the town of Paxton, his home was 
Worcester during all his later life. 

In that city of his adoption, and near the scene of his best labors, he 
peacefully closed his eyes in death on Sunday, the 4th of November, 
1860. In the intermission of divine services, after public prayer had 
been fervently offered in his behalf in the sanctuary, and a friend of 
his, and member of Mr. Gough's family, had gone from the church to 
his bedside, to convey to him renewedly, messages of sympathy and af- 
fection, he entered, we hope, the heavenly sanctuary, and became a 
worshiper before the throne. Just after noon of the holy-day, scarcely 
past the meridian of his own peaceful life, he passed away, to dwell in 
a world where there is no night. 

His funeral obsequies were observed at the Salem Street Church, 
where he worshiped, when in health, with regularity and devoutness. 
Three ministers of the Gospel, of different denominations, participated 
in the exercises, and Mr. Gough, by invitation, uttered a few touching 
and appropriate words. A large company of mourners followed him to 
his burial, and laid him in " Hope Cemetery," to sleep until the grave 
shall give up its dead. 

Something ought to be said respecting the virtues of Mr. Stratton, 
for in some respects, though in humble life, he was a burning and a 
shining light. He was a true friend of temperance. An abstainer, 
from childhood, he early united with the temperance organization, and 
was a worker in the cause. Mr. Gough is not the only man whom he 
has rescued, though Providence may have made him the most distin- 
guished. Of late years he belonged to the order of the Sons of Tem- 
perance, and was rarely absent from the weekly meeting of his division. 
At every temperance lecture or sermon, he was present, a quiet observer 
and interested listener. The week in which he was taken ill, he attended 
the welcome-meeting which Worcester gave to Mr. Gough, on his second 
return from England. The meeting was tumultuous with jubilant feel- 
ing ; but Mr. Stratton, with characteristic quietness, sat calmly by, his 
countenance suffused with smiles, and radiant with benevolence, appar- 
ently unconscious of anything but the good that would bo accom- 
plished by the meeting, and the impulse which this occasion would im- 
part to the movement. 

Mr. Stratton was a modest man. Unobtrusive and retiring, those 
who wished to become acquainted with him were compelled to seek his 
society. **I never knew him intimately," s;iid Mr. Gough, at his 



524 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHI^ B. GOUGH. 



tj 



funeral, " on account of bis great modesty and diffidence. He always 
kept himself in the background. He was the last man to take my 
hand at the door, as I went out after a lecture. I owe to him all that 
I am, since I have been worth anything to my fellow-men; and while 
I am almost daily annoyed by letters from persons who knew me in my 
former life, or who were acquainted with some other person who knew 
me, asking of me some assistance or pecuniary aid, Joel Stratton never 
once asked of me a favor. He never obtruded himself upon me; 
never alluded to his instrumentality in my reform ; never appeared to 
pride himself upon it, as if it were a meritorious deed." His modesty 
led him to conceal his real wants. He sacrificed his property rather 
than ask any person to assist him through his difficulties. "Why did 
you not inform us of your circumstances," said friends to him after his 
little home had passed out of his hands, " and we would have helped 
you to keep it?" He could not bring himself to ask such a favor, of 
friend or stranger. 

He was a man full of kindness. Devoted to his family, domestic in 
his habits, affectionate in his intercourse with his children and friends; 
he left upon every one the impression of genuine kindness of heart. 
He had no enemies, for he loved every one, and spoke charitably of all. 
His attachment to Mr. Gough was very strong, and for his unasked 
favors he was deeply grateful. After a visit from Mr. Gough during 
his sickness, he was found by his wife bathed in tears, which he could 
not restrain, when he thought both of the kind words and good deeds, 
which had characterized the visit. He prayed that he might live until 
Tuesday, (on which day Mr. G. was to return from a lecturing tour in 
Canada,) that he might see his old friend once more. He arrived only 
in time to attend his funeral on Wednesday. Christian sympathy re- 
quires that a word be said respecting his widow and fatherless children. 
They occupy the upper tenement of a small but comfortable house, the 
same in which he died. She is a confirmed invalid, from a disease of 
the spine, and the four children, at the ages of fourteen, nine, seven, 
and four years, are to be cared for and educated. He left them nothing 
but his good name, the cheap furniture of their dwelling, and the tools 
of his trade. Nothing so burdened his mind as the future of his chil- 
dren, and the anxious care that would rest upon his feeble wife, when 
they should be bereaved of their natural protector. Yet he cheerfully 
left them with the widow's God, and the "father of the fatherless." 

Keader, — have you ever considered how great is your personal influ- 
ence? The life of Joel D. Stratton is a lesson to you. It shows you 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 625 

how grand a thing it is to be a man. It reveals to you something of 
the inherent glory of a good deed. It proves how richly rewarding 
may be a humble and unpromising effort to do good. It gives one a 
glimpse of the eternal honor with which God invests every virtuous act, 
and of the great reward which is sure to follow it. It illustrates the 
duty of every person to exert upon others all the good influence he pos- 
sesses, and utters volumes of truth respecting the moral power which 
may be wielded by one man. Be stimulated to imitate his example. 
Degraded creatures still walk our streets, the prey of passion, the sub- 
jects of terrible remorse, candidates for the drunkard's grave, and the 
drunkard's doom. Yet underneath all that is disgusting in their exte- 
rior, they have hearts that can feel, and repent, and love, and be grate- 
ful. They can be reached. Words of kindness will win them. Per- 
severing efforts will save them. They may be jewels that need only a 
new setting to make them shine like the stars. Eemember how highly 
God honored our departed brother, and go thou and do likewise. 

Since January 1, 1861, it has been a source of great 
gratification and thankfulness that I have been able to 
appropriate three hundred dollars per year to his 
widow ; and I intend that she shall not be dependent 
while I live. 

I had hitherto delivered lectures solely on the sub- 
ject of temperance, never, except on one or two oc- 
casions, attempting to use written notes, and never 
being able to succeed satisfactorily to myself, with 
the paper before me, or in my hand. Manj^ friends 
were desirous that I should present in a lecture some 
experiences of London Life ; several literary associa- 
tions applied for such a lecture to be delivered in 
their course, — for I had rarely lectured in a course, 
having been an outsider, very much "on my own 
hook." I had for some time felt the necessitv of 
some change, that would prevent my losing the elas- 
ticity of mind that I knew was suffering fi'om the in- 
tense strain of speaking so often, and under such ex- 



626 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

citing circumstances, upon one theme, with so little 
possible variety ; I must either speak much less fre- 
quently, or I must have a variety of topics. I had 
but little ambition (for I am well aware of my de- 
ficiencies,) to take rank among the literary lecturers 
of the day ; but having from pure interest in what I 
saw, collected a large amount of material, especially 
in reference to the street life in London, I was in- 
duced to prepare such a lecture. I had appointed 
New Haven, as the place where I should make the 
experiment; if I failed, I could devote myself to tem- 
perance according to my ability, as long as I might be 
needed. 

On the 21st of November, 1860, I was announced 
to deliver a lecture on " Street Life in London." 
Passing through New Haven on my way to New 
York, I met Mr. Edwin Marble, then the efficient 
president of the Library Association, and my warm 
personal friend, and begged him to change it, sub- 
stituting "temperance," for my courage had failed 
me, and I declared I could not speak on any other 
theme. He kindly said some words to me which I 
construed into a compliance with my wishes, and 
eight days after, I went to New Haven, comforted by 
the thought, that I had escaped the dreaded ordeal ; 
when, to my consternation and dismay, I saw on large 
posters the announcement, "Street Life in London." 
In my distress, I went to Mr. Marble, and told him it 
could not be. He said very kindly, but decidedly, 
"It must be — we have announced it," and encouraged 
me to attempt it. Not even in my first appearance 
as a speaker did I feel more nervous and apprehen- 
sive. (I had read the lecture at home, to my friends 



AUTOBIOGEAPHT OF JOH^ B. GOUGH. 527 

George Gould and Eev. Horace James, who both con- 
demned it with "faint praise.") 

The Music Hall was crowded. A table was on the 
platform for my manuscript, and for the first time I 
faced an audience with a written lecture on an en- 
tirely new theme. Before I proceeded to its deliv- 
ery, I announced that this was an experiment ; I 
doubted if it would not be a failure ; but they should 
have the lecture — and I would constitute them my 
judges — and if, after hearing it, they so decided, I 
would put the manuscript in the fire ; but if they de- 
cided in its favor, I would go on with it, as I had 
engaged to deliver it in Boston, Providence, and 
Worcester. The lecture was received with favor, 
and I delivered it in Boston the next evening;. On 
my way there, George Gould came into the cars at 
Worcester, and congratulated me. I immediately 
prepared another, entitled, "Lights and Shadows of 
London Life." The next year I prepared "London 
by Night," which I delivered twenty-three times, and 
then discarded, not being at all pleased wdth it. Lon- 
don being an almost inexhaustible field, I prepared an- 
other a few years since, " The Great Metropolis," which 
was never given, and is cast aside. The lectures on 
London being continually called for, I combined por- 
tions of the first three in one — " London," — which, by 
varying every year, I have given one hundred and 
twenty-seven times since 1862. In 1861, I prepared, 
"Here and There in Britain," which I have discarded, 
after presenting it seventy-two times; 1862, -Elo- 
quence and Orators," one hundred and thirty-seven 
times; 1863, "Peculiar People," one hundred and 
ninety times; 1864, "Tact and Fiction," eighty-six 
33 



528 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF J0H:N" B. GOUGH. 

times; 1865, "Habit," one hundred and twenty times; 
1866, "Curiosity," eighty-eight times; and in 1868, 
"Circumstances," sixty-four times. 

I have received letters remonstrating with me for 
"leaving the temperance field;" and a small pam- 
j)hlet was published, accusing me of "deserting the 
cause" that had saved me. I would state here, that 
I am as much attached to that movement now as 
I have ever been. In every lecture I introduce 
the theme of temperance prominently, and am ever 
ready and glad to give a lecture on thsit pur eli/, and 
do, whenever it is called for ; and often urge socie- 
ties I serve, as far as it is courteous, to select that 
subject. 

Please remember, I do not apologize for my course, 
for I hold I have a perfect right to select the themes 
on which I may choose to speak ; but simply correct- 
ing the statement, that I am indifferent to the wel- 
fare and success of the temperance movement. 

In 1862 applications were so numerous, involving 
so large an amount of correspondence, that Mr. John 
G. North of New Haven, my old and valued friend, 
undertook the task of making my routes. For two 
years he conducted the correspondence, as my agent; 
but, feeling the inconvenience of the distance be- 
tween us, — he in New Haven, and I in Worcester,— 
I attempted the labor myself in 1864, and, finding it 
more than I could conveniently accomplish. Miss Nel- 
lie A. Mason came to us in the summer of 1865, and 
has rendered me very efficient service for four years, 
as she resides in our family during the four months 
in which this work is accomplished. An average of 
more than fifteen hundred letters each summer are 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 531 

written, many of them requiring great care and tact, 
and she has proved an invaluable aid to me. 

Every man engaged in public labor has probably 
experienced more or less annoyance from beggars, 
borrowers, and bores. The beggars may be divided 
into two classes, — those who really need, and are 
deserving, and those who seem to require that others 
shall work that they may live in comfort without it. 
Among the latter are the young men, able-bodied, 
who either lack energy, or will, to help themselves. 
There is a class of young men who spend more time 
hi seeking help from others, than, if industriously 
employed in helping themselves, would secure to 
them independence, and save them from the mean- 
ness of polite beggary. Others have such a horror 
of hard work, they will adopt any plan that enables 
them to eat bread in the sweat of another man's 
brow. Our country is overrun with half-starved 
clerks, while our farm laborers are gaining a compe- 
tence and saving money. Young men will leave 
healthy, remunerative employment, and flock to in- 
stitutions where they can, in six months, become 
efficient clerks; the consequence is, large numbers 
are drifting about, unable to dig and not ashamed to 
beg. Some of the letters I have received would be 
amusing, but for their meanness or impudence. Think 
of a young man writing: "I have heard you are 
benevolent, — I know you are able, for 3'our income 
has been published. I want to get a musical educa- 
tion; my friends will not help me; 3'Ou can, if you 
will. I want you to give me five hundred dolhirs a 
year for three years, or, if it is more convonlout to 
you, iifteen hundred dollars at once. A check on 



532 AUTOBIOGEAPHT OF JOHIT B. GOUGH 

New York, payable to bearer, would confer lasting 
obligation on yours, etc." Petitions for aid in busi- 
ness, — in paying notes due, or borrowed money, — to 
travel. A young man, a carpenter by trade, able to 
work, and with plenty to do, once asked me to help 
him from one town to another. I gave him a dollar, 
he said, "That's not enough — the fare is a dollar and 
a half." "But," I said, "the stage fare is a dollar." 
"Thunder!" said he, "do you suppose I will jolt the 
life out of myself in a stage? — no, sir!'' He left 
me without the half dollar. 

One man wrote me that he had a farm, and if he 
could make two spires of grass grow where only one 
grew before, he would be a philanthropist; there 
were so many stones in his fields, that if he could 
get them out, he should be able to double his crops. 
Would I give him two or three gratuitous lectures? 
and as he was very busy, could I name a day when I 
would meet him at the railway station, (some forty 
miles from my home,) and all preliminaries could be 
settled. My wife answered that letter. This was an 
industrious beggar. 

I have applications for piano-fortes, sewing-ma- 
chines, money to publish books, money to help out of 
jail, for a horse, to build a house, for suits of clothes, 
for funds to make a European voyage, for money to 
buy a wig, to purchase mules, to obtain an educa- 
tion, to pay off a mortgage, for a trip to the sea-side, 
to support a failing newspaper, to send a sister to 
boardingrschool, to pay the premium on insurance; 
and often with inaptly quoted passages of Scripture. 
Persons write me or call on me, who knew me when 
I lived somewhere — or heard me speak somewhere — 



^ 



AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOHjq" B. GOUGH. 533 

or knew some one that I knew — or had my name^ 
only spelled difFerently^ — and, needing a little money, 
felt their claims, for these reasons, strong enough to 
induce them to apply to me. Some again, who may 
have rendered me service acknowledged and paid for, 
annoying by the persistent reminder of my obligation 
to them; and in one case going so far as to threaten, 
should I fail to comply with their wishes; thereby 
neutralizing all obligation under which I might other- 
wise have lain to them. 

There are the borrowers who never intend to pay 
— a meaner class than the beggars ; it is often cheaper, 
by one hundred per cent., to give ten dollars than 
to lend twenty. It sounds better to borrow than to 
beg. I think in two or three cases I have been paid 
borrowed money; but I have in my drawer a pack- 
age of notes (and these borrowers are very eager to 
give notes if you pay for the stamp) for thousands 
of dollars — labeled ^^ money lent and lost;" another 
package labeled "notes of doubtful value," (they are 
very doubtful;) another labeled "notes to be collected 
by instalments," — (on one or two there have been in- 
stalments collected — on others, none offered, nor even 
an apology for the neglect;) and yet another, labeled 
'^ notes," and when they are paid, I trust I shall be 
aware of the fact. 

Next come the black-mail letters, of which I have 
four, received within six years, threatening some aw- 
ful exposures if so many hundred dollars were not 
sent to a certain address. M}' plan with these last is, 
to show them to my wife, then to friends as curiosi- 
ties. My case is not a rare one, I know, and 1 speak 
of these simply as annoyances — serious, potty, or 



534 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHIN" B. GOUGH. 

amusing, as the case may be; but I must confess my 
belief that the system of begging-letter writing is as 
complete and extensile in this country, as in any 
other part of the world. I would never discourage 
an honest man under adverse circumstances from 
seeking help, and I believe I may say that very rarely 
has any man applied to me, — when I was able to re- 
lieve, and his claim on my S3riiipathy was reasona- 
ble, — and gone empty-handed away. I simply de- 
nounce the class who live and thrive on the credulity 
and generosity of others. " Helj) yourself," is a good 
motto ; but "Help yourself that you may help others," 
is a better. Every man in life's battle may meet re- 
verses, but need not be overwhelmed. Let him do 
his duty, and strive to be a man rather than a gentle- 
man; unless he takes Billy Downey's definition of a 
gentleman: "I say if I pays my way, does not owe 
nobody nothing, if I is industrious, and takes care of 
my old mother, and is ready to serve my country 
when I is required, I say I is a gentleman. It isn't 
the toggery, it's the cliaracMer!' 

Some men give up in despair under difficulties. A 
man was seen by the side of an overturned load of 
hay, blubbering and bawling. A passer-by asked, 
^^ What's the matter?" "Oh, boo-oohl" "What's the 
matter ?" I ask. "Oh, boo-ooh!" " Why don't j^ou 
get to work and pitch up the load ? " " Oh ! oh ! 
boo! — " roared the poor fellow, "Oh! dad's under the 
hav ! " 

A long chapter might be written on the genus bore, 
in all its varieties ; but I forbear — lest I bore my 
reader. In my constant travel, I have had abundant 
opportunities of seeing the peculiarities of people ; 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 535 

and often- the dull monotony of a journey is broken 
by some amusing incident 5 and when weary, a little 
thing will divert one. I have seen a w^hole car-full 
of people roaring with laughter at the most trifling 
joke. Once, between Adrian and Cleveland, we were 
going very slowly, and the passengers were complain- 
ing, when one man, who looked like a New England 
deacon, drawled out, '^Ah! well, yes! we are going 
slow, and we shan't never get nowhere, at this poor, 
dying rate." There was a universal shout of laugh- 
ter. Another time, the snow had blocked the road, 
and at a certain station we took on board a large 
number of passengers, who had been detained all 
night waiting for our train ; when one elderly, wo- 
begone-looking man stood in the passage-way of the 
car, and, looking about him — the seats being all oc- 
cupied — said with a most lugubrious air and tone : 
" This is too bad ! here I've been laying on the floor 
all night, and I can't find a place to set^ A gentle- 
man sprung from his seat and said: ^^That is too bad; 
here's a place — come and set;'' and amid a nois}^ burst 
of merriment that surprised him, he took the oflered 
seat. 

I have been amused, while riding, to hear conver- 
sations about myself. Perhaps two persons sitting- 
just before me will be very free in their remarks ; 
and I have enjoyed their criticism, though sometimes 
not particularly complimentary ; and I have occasion- 
ally heard some news about myself and family, of 
which I was totally ignorant before ; and it is doubly 
amusing when these people discover that all their 
conversation has been overheard bv its subject. Once 
I heard a gentleman say to another, ^'Did you hear 



536 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH: 

Gough last night?" I had given the lecture on 
Habit, and related the neat remark made to a man 
^'ho always kept others waiting for him. "You be- 
long to the three-handed species." "Ah!" said the 
man, ^^a very rare species that." "Oh, no! plenty 
of them," was the reply. "Two hands like other 
people, and a little behind hand." The gentleman 
had not heard me. ^^Ah," said the other, "he told a 
very good story, about a man that kept people wait- 
ing for him; ^you belong to the three-handed class, 
you've got two hands like other people, and you've 
got — you've got two hands like other people, and 
you've got' — what in thunder was it, now — it was 
real good ; ^you've got two hands like other people, 
and you've got — you've got' — oh, by George! 'you've 
got a little hand — no — a hand — a little hand — you've 
got ' — Ah, you ought to hear Gough tell that story ; 
it was real good." 

In all my travel for twenty-six years I never was 
detained by any accident to steamboat or car in which 
I was traveling, but once; that was in Canada, on the 
Grand Trunk. We had been kept back two hours by 
a freight train off the track, and I said to a fellow-pas- 
senger " We have many detentions on this road." - He 
replied, " We must praise the bridge that carries us 
safely over." I was a little vexed, and said: ''Yes, 
but we are not over yet." At that instant I felt a jar, 
and springing up, cried out " We are off the track ! " 
and we were. I had often, while traveling, imagined 
my sensations in a catastrophe like this, but they 
were not what I had supposed. While the car was 
leaping and bounding I stood, as firmly as I could, 
grasping the back of the seat before me ; — no fear or 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 537 

terror, but an anticipation, a curious sort of calcula- 
tion as to liow long the car would endure such a 
strain — how long the wheels would stand the smash- 
ing — wondering why the engine did not stop — and 
why we w^ere going so fast — when a crash came, 
and the car leaned over farther and farther, till the 
balance was gone, and we w^ere thrown over — the 
valises from the racks, and the passengers on the 
other side being thrown with a dull thud upon us. 
The first thing I knew, as the boy said, "I didn't 
know nothing," but found myself on the roof of the 
car — a large stump forced into it — women and chil- 
dren in heaps — a smell of fire — -and then commenced 
the scramble to get out. The upper part of one of 
the doors was broken open, and we crawled out, one 
by one. To our astonishment, not a passenger was 
hurt, excepting slight scratches. I had neither scratch 
nor bruise ; but a brakeman, nobly doing his duty, 
was killed. This was my first experience of a rail- 
way accident; and I sincerely hope it may be the 
last. One result has been that I am much more ap- 
prehensive and nervous while traveling than ever 
before. 

I am warned that my space is limited and that I 
must look towards the "Finis." 



CHAPTER XXXV. 

Silver Wedding — Presentation of Gifts — Speech — Letter to Commit- 
tee — Record of Work — Audiences of Students — The Book — The 
War — Family — Nannie's Death — Letter from my Wife — Record of 
Friends — Courtesy of Fellow-Laborers — Conclusion. 

0]!T the 24th of November, 1868, occurred what is 
termed our "silver wedding." We intended that no 
notice should be taken of it, except perhaps a feast 
to our own people, and a little celebration in our own 
family; but some personal friends in Worcester, be- 
coming aware of the fact, proposed to us a celebra- 
tion under the auspices and direction of a committee 
from Worcester and Boston, and afterwards caused a 
pamphlet to be published, containing a full account 
of the festival, — a portion of which I insert, as far as 
may be necessary, to convey some idea of the very 
pleasant and flattering demonstration. 

A number of gentlemen of Worcester, Mass. , learning that the twen- 
ty-fifth anniversary of the marriage of John B. Gougli and Mary E. 
Goiigh would occur on the 24th of November, determined that it 
should not pass without having the opportunity, in some way, of show- 
ing their regard for one who had been so eminently useful in the cause 
of temperance, — who had done so much to cheer and comfort the de- 
spondent, and whose eloquent utterances had electrified vast assemblies 
of people in this and other countries. 

Upon conferring with Mr. Gough and wife upon the matter, it was 
found that they were opposed to any special celebration of the event, 
lest it should be thought that they were inviting their friends to con- 
form to the custom on such occasions, and accompany their congratula- 
tions and good wishes with presents. They, however, reluctantly gave 



AUTOBIOGEAPHT OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 539 

their consent that some notice should be taken of the anniversary, and 
their friends in the city of Worcester appointed a committee to make all 
necessary arrangements. 

The following card of invitation was issued, and sent to such of Mr. 
Gough's friends as they were able to reach, in different parts of the 
country, and to some in England and Scotland : 

To the Friends of John B. Gough, Esq., — The Twenty-fifth Anni- 
versary of the nuptials of Mr. and Mrs. Gough occurs November 24th, 
186^. The pressure of professional duty, but especially Mr. Gough's 
diffidence to announce the occasion, had determined him to celebrate 
the event privately. His friends, however, are not willing. They feel 
that a spontaneous recognition of his noble and successful labors for hu- 
manity during twenty-five years, in which his name has been endeared 
to millions, demands from them some expression of their good will and 
esteem, and would be a most agreeable surprise and long-remembered 
pleasure to him. Hence this invitation in their name. 

Mr. and Mrs. Gough would regret the issue of invitations which 
looked to a solicitation of gifts. Some, however, have determined not 
to bo denied such privilege. Hence the committee, without solicitation 
or negation, leave his friends, unembarrassed in the expression of their 
good will, by congratulatory letter, or in any form their pleasure may 
dictate. It is the purpose of some of his friends to aggregate their 
oflTerings, in procuring some more munificent testimonial than individuals 
would elect. Therefore, if any prefer to be associated with this chief of- 
fering, they will please forthwith communicate their pleasure to either of 
the committee, through whom it is desired all expressions should pass. 

We especially emphasize the request that you would honor Mr. 
Gough with your presence at "Hillside" on that occasion. Open 
house after eleven o'clock, a. m. Special ceremonies and congratula- 
tions at eight o'clock, p. m. 

Express trains east and west leave Worcester at 10 o'clock, r. m. 

Coaches will run to his residence at 11 o'clock, A. m., 2, 4, and 7 
o'clock, p. M., from the Bay State House. 

Rev. J. Oramel Peck, 
Judge Henry CiiAriN, 
PiiiLTP L. MoEN, Esq., 
(T. Washburn & IMoon,) 
Edward Earle, Esq., 



Committee 

of 

ArranqementSf 

Worcester. 



B. W. Williams, Esq., | Committee of Jr- 
James XL lloBERTS, EsQ., j rangcmcuts, Boston. 



540 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

The morning of the 2-±th was crisp and cold, but 
bright and beautiful, and by eleven o'clock the friends 
began to assemble, and were coming and going the 
entire day. Tables were set in the dining and break- 
fast-rooms, and all were invited to partake of refresh- 
m.ents. As soon as one company had been supplied, 
another was ready, and from five o'clock to eleven — 
except during the exercises — the tables were occupied. 
The committees, with two hundred and sixty-seven of 
the guests, wrote their names in a book provided for 
the purpose. Nearly two hundred, in addition to 
these, were present during the day. Congratulatory 
letters were received from one hundred and ^ye 
friends in this country and Great Britain, and tele- 
grams from twenty-five hundred persons assembled 
at the Academy of Music, Philadelphia, on the occa- 
sion of the anniversary of the Young Men's Chris- 
tian Association — and from other friends ; also, an 
original poem from Alfred B. Street of Albany; — all 
which have been published entire in the memorial 
pamphlet issued by the committee. 

The exercises were held in the gymnasium. An 
address was delivered by Rev. J. 0. Peck, as chairman 
of the occasion. Addresses were presented by Hon. 
Henry Chapin, on behalf of the Worcester donors, — 
by B. W. Williams, on behalf of the Boston donors. 
Original poems ^ -ere delivered by James B. Congdon 
of New Bedford, and Rev. E. P. Dyer of Shrewsbury, 
and a song by Rev. William Phipps of Paxton, Mass. 
The gifts named below were presented: 

A massive solid silver epergne, designed to hold either fruit or flow- 
ers; and an ice-cream set of fourteen pieces, silver, lined with gold, — 
the offerino' of the neio-hbors of Mr. and Mrs. Gouo^h in Worcester and 



AUTOBIOGKAPHT OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 541 

vicinity, and friends who had sent their donations in money to the Com- 
mittee. The center-piece is about twenty inches in hight; the pedestal 
being a statue of an Indian Chief, standing upon a base ornamented 
with Indian figures in various attitudes, chased in the silver. A basket 
rests upon the head of the chief, who, with his upraised hands, sup- 
ports a large basin or plate, eighteen inches in diameter, lined with 
gold. The ice-cream set is of solid silver, lined with gold. The value 
of both the above was one thousand dollars. Each bore the inscrip- 
tion, "John B. and Mary E. Gough, Worcester, November 24, 1868; 
from neighbors and friends." Presented on behalf of the donors by 
Hon. Henry Chapin of Worcester. 

An elegant and costly bronze clock, of beautiful and elaborate de- 
sign and finish, — the gift of some of Mr. Gough's Boston friends, pre- 
sented by Mr. B. W. Williams of Jamaica Plain, on behalf of the 
donors, whose names were signed to an address, elegantly written by 
an expert, and framed. 

Silver fruit-dish from Lecture Committee of Young Men's Christian 
Association of Philadelphia. 

WyclifFe's version of the Bible, Oxford Press, from faculty and 
students in Phillip's Academy, Andover, Mass. 

Set of silver ice-cream spoons and ladle, from Newark Clayonian 
Society. 

Two silver flower-vases from Berlin (Mass.) Sabbath School. 

Flowers, in water-colors, from Miss Martha Congdon of New Bed- 
ford, Mass. 

Gold watch from Chicago friends, accompanied by a letter. 

Silver nut-dish, from Shrewsbury (Mass.) Monumental Association. 

Bare and beautiful photograph of a Boman procession, from L. C. 
Hopkins, Cincinnati, Ohio. 

Silver grape-shears, from Mr. and Mrs. L. K. Sheffield, Dubuque, 
Iowa. 

Stand of exquisite wax water-lilies, from IMrs. Bichard Storrs of 
New York. 

Silver flower-vases, from Mr. and Mrs. George Fairfield, Hudson, N.Y. 

Silver nut-dish, from Mr. and Mrs. T. A. Newton, Bochester, N. Y., 
with velvet and gilt letter-rack. 

Silver flower-vase, from Miss Anna E. Dickinson of Philadelphia. 

Silver butter-knives, from Bcv. George H. Duftiokl and lady of 
Galesburg, 111. 

Silver napkin-rings, from Mr. Alausou Long of Boston. 



542 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHX B. GOUGH. 

GoetLe Gallery of Photographs, from Mr. and Mrs. Dudley Wil- 
liams of Jamaica Plain. 

Autoo-raph book, from Charles A. Clapp of Boston. 

Hano-ino- basket, from Mrs. Schwartz of Boston. 

Choice bouquet, from Mrs. Mackintosh of Montreal. 

Silver card-vase, from friends in Berlin, Mass. 

Silver salt-cellars and spoons, from Mr. and Mrs. Dwight of Ypsi- 
lanti, Mich. 

Set of ice-cream spoons and ladle, from W. H. Piper & Co. of Boston. 

Silver and glass flower-stand, from Bev. George H. Gould and wife 
of Hartford, Conn. 

Bare old coin, from W. H. Dikeman of New York. 

Silver center-piece, for fruit and flowers, from Mr. B. W. Williams 
and Mr. James H. Boberts of Boston. 

Two silver cups, which, when united, form a silver ^gg^ — from Hon. 
Ginery Twitchell. 

A superb watch-guard, and a chain and brooch of tortoise-shell inlaid 
with gold, — manufactured and presented by Hon. Milo Hildreth of 
Northborough, Mass. 

Beautiful French engi'aving of "The chess-players," from Mr. Al- 
bert Goodman, Surrey, England. 

Large volume of very fine photographs of Windsor Great Park and 
Forest. 

A large volume in water-colors, of the peaks and valleys of the Alps. 

A collection of etchings by the Etching Club. 

A very unique and artistic volume entitled " The Golden Calendar." 

The last four volumes were from Mr. Potto Brown, 
Mr, George William Brown, and Mr. Bateman Brown, 
of Houghton, Huntingdonshire, England, and Mr. 
Henry Goodman, St. Ives, Huntingdonshire, England. 
These gifts were very costly ; and though we pack 
and store them for safe-keeping — not deeming it de- 
sirable to bring them into common use, — they are, 
and will remain to those who come after us, as testi- 
monials of love and good will, more valuable than 
rubies. 

In concluding this notice of one of the most de- 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 543 

liglitful occasions of my life, I insert the closing re- 
marks in my speech^ and Mrs. Gough's letter to the 
committee : 

And now I must be permitted to say, how gratifyino- it is to me on 
this occasion, to be surrounded by so many of my Worcester friends. 

You knew me, many of you, in the darl^est days of my life, in my 

poverty and obscurity. You have seen me among you, going in and 
coming out before you these many years. In Worcester I signed the 
pledge ; in Worcester I was married ; in Worcester I have lived and 
been known so long ; and it is particularly gratifying for me to know 
that you who know me best should have seen fit to offer me this splen- 
did testimonial of your esteem and confidence. To you, and to all my 
dear friends present, I would say, may God bless you, and pour into 
your own hearts abundantly the riches of His grace and favor, and 
repay you ten-fold for all your kindness to me and mine ! I say no 
more. Words — thoughts — all fail me, except the consciousness of 
your generous kindness, — and that will ever abide to help and 
strengthen me in the coming duties and conflicts of life. 

The following is the letter from Mrs. John B.. Gough 
" to the Committee having charge of the Arrange- 
ments for the " Silver Wedding " on the 24tli of No- 
vember : 

Hillside, November 28, 18G8. 

Gentlemen, — As I return to the accustomed quiet of our home again, 
after the stir and anticipation of our "silver wedding" day, and live 
over in memory the brightness of that event, I feel that we owe you no 
common thanks, for "pleasures of memory" beyond our thought, and 
for organizing an opportunity for such beautiful expressions of good- 
will as met us then. 

Whenever we look over the receding years, it will henceforth always 
be that we must do so through that bright day in November 1S68, when 
yourselves and so many others recognized so delightfully both the toils 
and the results of those vanished years. 

It has given fresh impulse to our grateful remembrance of the God 
and Saviour who has led us so lovingly all the way ; and wo do not for- 
get that He has ordered, that though a cool draught from a way-sido 
spring does not release from all sense of a toilsome path, it docs so refresh 
as to strengthen for the "hill ditliculty" of the future. 



544 AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

In all the kind tilings said and done that day for myself personally, 
there was one omission, and that, inevitable under the circumstances. 
In the recognition of my husband's work and life in the past twenty-five 
years, none but myself could have said how much I am indebted for 
whatever of success has been my own in our united lives to the gener- 
ous trust and confidence, the unfailing regard, that have always recog- 
nized our interests as one, which has left head and hands so free — made 
such a thing as a struggle for "rights" so unnecessary — and which has 
rejoiced in such fruitage of that trust as makes the bond that binds us 
together so much stronger than twenty-five years ago, while losing not 
the green and freshness of its earlier time. 

With heartfelt thanks for all the wide and substantial sympathy ex- 
pressed on that occasion, and with the hope that the truest peace may 
always abide in the homes represented at Hillside on that day, I am, 
gentlemen, very gratefully yours, Mary E. Gough. 

From accurate accounts kept I find that from May 
14, 1843, to June 1, 1869, I have delivered six thou- 
sand and sixty-four public addresses, and traveled two 
hundred and seventy-two thousand two hundred and 
thirty-five miles, independent of all traveling for 
pleasure, or on occasions not connected with my work. 
Of the addresses, four hundred and forty-three were 
delivered gratuitously. There were up to 1853 — 
when I first went to England — two hundred and fif- 
teen thousand one hundred and Kseventy-nine names 
obtained to the pledge. I have spoken in State 
Prisons in New Hampshire, Massachusetts, Connecti- 
cut, and New York ; penitentiaries, reform schools, 
and houses of correction, at Blackwell's Island, N. Y., 
Baltimore, Md., Detroit, Mich., "Worcester and West- 
boro, Mass., and Meriden, Conn. ; to the deaf and 
dumb and blind, in Hartford, Conn., Flint, Mich., and 
other places. 

Among the most interesting occasions in my whole 
work have been those among the young men stu- 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 545 

dents in our universities. Though not an educated 
man^ these audiences have been among the most 
generous and courteous. I have ever been received 
by them with kindness^ and I am impelled to state 
here, that I have spoken at the request of the students 
at Yale and Middletown, Ct., Amherst and Williams- 
town, Mass., Brown, E. I., Carlisle, Pa., Oberlin and 
Oxford, Ohio, Ann Arbor and Albion, Mich., in this 
country ; and Edinburgh University, and New Col- 
lege, Scotland. 

One word about the book. Owing to a miscalcula- 
tion of the amount required, I had prepared much 
more than was needed, and it was deemed necessary 
to cancel some portions — which may excuse some 
awkward and sudden breaks in the narrative, and the 
hurried conclusion. 

It has been constantly asserted that the Autobiog- 
raphy published in 1845, was not written by me. I 
state here the facts. John Eoss Dix, then calling 
himself John Dix Eoss, was an inmate of my family, 
and I, pacing the room, dictated to him, he being a 
good short-hand writer. When he had copied it out, 
we read it together and made alterations, and I wish 
to say that, excepting only three, or, at most, four 
instances, my language, not his, was used. 

In this work, I have permitted no one to revise it 
or add to it. I have written it, revised it, looked 
over the proof, and, such as it is, it is mine. Not 
niuch to boast of. Much has been omitted that mio-ht 
have been retained, and perhaps some things inserted' 
that might as well have been left out; but I have 
used my judgment as far as my limitation of space 
permitted. I expect, and shall gain, no fame as an 
34 



546 AUTOBIOGEAPHT OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

author. Some may not think so well of me for these 
revelations ; but the regard of my true friends will 
not be lessened by a simple narrative of facts. 

Though this record covers all the years of our civil 
war, I have not alluded to it. There are so many 
histories of the war, that I can say nothing new ; but 
my whole heart's sympathies were in the struggle for 
our national existence, and I did what I could, and 
mean to do what I can in aid of our noble soldiers 
who fought and suffered for the dear old flag, and the 
perpetuity of our Union. 

While memory serves me, I shall never lose out of 
it those years, so full of thrilling interest, from the 
first cry of " the bombardment of Fort Sumter," that 
woke the echoes in the silent streets at midnight. 
Then followed the running to and fro, and men's 
voices were heard like the low muttering of the 
coming storm. How I live over and over again that 
first dreadful, half-waked sense of the nation being 
suddenly called to suffering and sacrifice. Boys 
seemed to have become men, and men more manly, 
in a night. Then came the tramp of armed men, not 
for review but for service, stern, hard service. How 
men sung "Glory, Hallelujah!" in the streets as they 
marched, while women wept ! How vivid is the re- 
membrance of the sleepless nights, while our army 
seemed like endangered absentees from home, — of the 
first news of battle — then of disaster — the terrible 
days in the Chickahominy — the Wilderness — the sus- 
pense about Petersburg — the defeats that were but 
steps to victory — hope and fear alternating — then 
how the horizon grew brighter as we came to the 
Emancipation Proclamation; — and through all this, 



AUTOBIOGEAPHY OF JOniS" B. GOUGH. 547 

the long lines of hospitals all over the land full of suf- 
fering, and not seldom, too, of glory, not of this world 
— the millions in homes where sorrow came and 
stayed — the uncounted heroisms — the shameful defec- 
tions, and the quiet, watchful, trusting attitude of the 
race in our midst, on either side of which such powers 
were arrayed and over whose rights this long conflict 
really raged; while the whole nation was learning "to 
suffer and be strong." 

Not until many years of peace, shall we be able to 
estimate truly the times when every ear was strained 
to catch tidings from every breeze, and the years 
that were so full of the most sublime history. 

When my wife's younger brother died, he left his 
widow with six children, the eldest a boy ten years 
of age, the others girls — the youngest a mere babe. 
We at once took into our family the two elder girls ; 
after two years, the boy and two other girls, leaving 
the youngest with her mother. On January 13, 1868, 
Nannie, the eldest girl, died, at the age of fifteen, after 
a long and tedious illness. She had grown to be a 
lovely character, and the loss was keenly felt. 

I insert here part of a letter written to me by my 

wife : 

Hillside, January loth, 1869. 
3fy Dear Husband, — I have such a heart-ache to see you to-night. 
Hillside has a shadow on it, for our dear Nannie has gone home to tlio 
better land. This morning as the sunlight touched our hill, her spirit 
went, I doubt not, to the city that has "no need of the sun." I was 
with her, after I wrote the letter to you this morning, for an hour before 
I saw any reason to be uneasy about hei' — indeed until after four this 
morning. At five I ivas troubled at the rattling breath. I did every- 
thing I could think of for her, but the struggle, and nervous restless- 
ness, became so great that I called Mrs, Kuox at half-past five. AVe 
did everything we could think of for her. Then I stepped to Oscar's 



548 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 

door, and asked Mm to go for the doctor. He was up and away very 
quickly. Even then I did not know it was death ; but the nervous 
distress — panting for breath — clammy brow, and full, bright, solemn 
light in her eyes — made our hearts quake, as if our fears were all to be 
reahzed. One by one the dear children came in. Mary Dean came, 
then Agnes. We said in her ear the sweet promises of the Bible — the 
words of hymns that she knew — and "you do love and trust Jesus, 
dear Nannie?" She gave assent as strongly as she could by a gesture. 
The breath grew shorter — the sweet eyes looked steadfastly upward — 
the expression was, the awe and surprise of a lowly sphit — that it had 
conquered. The lines of the face grew noble, as the brow took on its 
marble hue — the eyelids the snowy tinge — the color faded from the 
cheek — and our darling Nannie was with the angels. 

The children kissed her, one by one, just before she was gone, and 
we think she knew it — but only by a movement and expression of the 
eye. We all wept together, and said "how sorry dear Uncle John 
would be to hear dear Nannie had gone." I was so sorry Oscar could 
not be here — ^he had not returned from the doctor's. When he did ar- 
rive he was so overcome, and could not see her for some time ; but 
when he did, none shed more scalding tears than he. You know what 
a sister she was to him. The doctor soon came, and we felt again that 
he was the friend as well as physician, as the tears rained down his face, 
while he laid his hand on her white brow. He has shown that he 
greatly cared for and respected Nannie all along. 

Your precious letter from Bloomington came two hours after Nannie 
had gone, with its loving messages to her, and the gift of the picture. 
How we did wish it had come on Saturday — it would have pleased her 
so much. But how much we have to be thankful for, in the merciful 
shortness of the passage over the last river — in the even beauty of her 
character — its violet fragrance — growing ever since that testimony four 
years ago, that "she belonged to Christ and she loved Him." I have 
had many anxious thoughts for her future contact with the world ; be- 
cause, with all her modest, steadfast courage and loyalty to right, she 
had such a capacity to suffer under disapproval. But I need not have 
taken thought for this. The Master she loved, knew what the service 
was to which He was calling her. 

It will be five days before you can hear of this. I have longed for 
your loving presence in our sorrow, more than I can tell ; but it cannot 
be. With kindest love from all to dear Uncle John, I am yours most 
affectionately, Mary E. Gough. 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 549 

The other children are with us. The boy, now 
eighteen years of age, is in the Pennsylvania Military 
Academy, at Chester. Since 18G0, seven children 
have been members of our family; so if children are 
sunbeams, our home has been bright with them. 

Among the results of my public life most valuable 
and appreciated are the pleasant homes I have found 
in this country and Great Britain; the close friend- 
ships formed; the association with some of the best 
and noblest; and the pleasant intercourse with so 
many of the wise and the good; — this, next to the 
fact that I may have been able, by God's blessing, to 
accomplish something towards the amelioration of 
the condition of the poor and degraded, the up-build- 
ing of the cause of the Master, and the glory of God 
— has been to me a source of the highest gratifica- 
tion. I could fill page after page with the records of 
kindness received in the homes where I have ever 
found a welcome. The recollection of them crowds 
upon me. How, when I was with my wife at a hotel 
in Utica, N. Y., William D. Hamlin called on us, and 
took us at once to his pleasant home, and since that 
time — 1844 — we have been constantly entertained 
by them. J. W. Fairfield, with his wife, since gone 
home, made our visits to Hudson, N. Y., delightful, 
and we anticipate with pleasure the welcome always 
afforded us by him, his son George, and his estimable 
wife, " Susie." At Rochester, N. Y., T. A. Newton and 
his wife have for years opened their house, and better 
still, their hearts to us. In New York, a pleasant 
and hospitable home always for us at AV. H. Dike- 
man's, who, in the darkest hours of my experience 
was one of the true, unfiinchiug friends. In Adrian, 



550 AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF J0H:N^ B. GOUGH. 

Mich., I have been nursed in sickness at the house of 
Mr. Angell, where I always found a welcome. In 
Philadelphia, 1425 Chestnut Street has been our 
resting-place and home for many years; and by our 
old friend of twenty-five years standing, Leonard 
Jewell, and Mr. and Mrs. H. H. Reed, we have always 
been welcomed with cordiality and Christian affec- 
tion. In Detroit, Hon. C. I. Walker, Mr. and Mrs. P. 
E. Curtis, and the charming family of Philo Parsons, 
greet us with affection. My dear friends, George 
Duffield and wife, have made many a dreary winter's 
day bright and sunny in their hospitable home, both 
in Adrian and Galesburg. If I continue the record 
to the end of the book, I can but begin to number 
them; and in reviewing the past, I am overwhelmed, 
and can only pray for those recorded, and for all who 
have shown me kindness. May the Master reward 
them a thousand-fold, for all the favor shown to me 
and mine in the years by-gone. 

I would recall the kindness with which I have been 
treated by the public press; and the courtesy of my 
fellow-laborers in the lecture field — especially Wen- 
dell Phillips, G. W. Curtis, Theodore Tilton, and the 
eloquent Anna E. Dickinson, whom I had the honor 
to entertain for a few days at my house. I hold her 
in high esteem, not only for her power as a public 
speaker, but as a noble woman, of whose friendship I 
am proud. 

On Tuesday, April 3d, 1866, George Gladwin, who 
had resided with us since his return from England a 
year before, was married at our house to Mary Booth, 
who had been a member of our family for ten years. 
They now reside in Worcester, Professor Gladwin oc- 



AUTOBIOGKAPHY OF JOHN B. GOUGH. 551 

cupying a Iiigh position as an artist^ having achieved 
a reputation as a teacher of drawing, inferior to none. 
They are "one of us" yet, and are often our guests. 
Thus surrounded by friends, the children growing 
up I trust to be honorable and useful ; my brother, 
who came to me in 1848, ^Ye years of age, now a 
Christian young man; my nephew striving to serve 
the Master ; my sister and her three sons prosperous; 
my wife spared to me these twenty -five years; my 
health continued, with all my work and exposure ; 
testimonials from friends, and loving tokens, crowding 
my home ; hundreds of homes where I ever find a 
cordial welcome; rejoioing in the respect, esteem, 
and affection of so many who love me ; hidden as I 
have be.en in "His pavilion from the strife of tongues." 
And now for years, " He hath caused even my ene- 
mies to be at peace with me." "The lines have fallen 
unto me in pleasant places ; yea, I have a goodly 
heritage;" "my cup runneth over." I can adopt the 
words of the song written by William B. Tappan, of 
Boston, on the second anniversary of my signing the 
pledge : 

I was tossed by the winds on a treacherous wave ; 
Above me was peril, beneath me a grave ; 
■ The sky, to my earnest enquiry, was dark ; 
The storm in a deluge came down on my bark ! 
How fearful ! to drive on a horrible shore, 
Where breakers of Euiu eternally roar. 

0, Mercy ! to wreck in the morning of days, — 
To die when life dazzles with changeable rays, — 
To sink as the groveling and vile of the ship, 
The rose on my cheek, and the dew on my li[i — 
And fling, as a bauble, my soul to the heaps. 
That glisten and mock from the caves of the deeps. 



552 



AUTOBIOGRAPHY OF JOHX B. GOUGH. 



0, no ! for a stak trembles out in the sky, 
The shrieks of the ocean complainingly die, 
The gales that I covet blow fi'esh from the shore, 
Where breakers of Kuin eternally roar ; 
Each sail presses homeward — all praises to Thee 
Whose word in .that hour hushed tempest and sea! 

If there is a man on the face of the earth who has 
cause for deep and humble gratitude^ and who can 
sing with the Psalmist, — " Praise the Lord, my soul ! 
while I live will I praise the Lord ; I will sing praises 
to my God while I have any being," — I am that man. 




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